


Alex vs. Middle School

by AdriennePrevost, Jedi_Cat_6



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is a flirt, Eliza is a STRONG cinnamon roll, F/F, F/M, M/M, Middle School AU, Middle School Band, Slow Burn, So yeah, Yeah this is us trying to come to terms with middle school, actually it is that bad, and we're taking it out on the characters, but yes there is plot, but you know they fall in love anyway, cheetos, it's pretty terrible for them, less about the plot and more about middle school, long chapters, long in general, so it can't be that bad, teenagers being stupid yet lovable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22392052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdriennePrevost/pseuds/AdriennePrevost, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jedi_Cat_6/pseuds/Jedi_Cat_6
Summary: Alexander Hamilton has been to a lot of awful schools, but nothing prepared him for Orchard Grove Middle School. And nothing could have prepared him for the people he met there. Adopted into a study group that never studies, Alex is thrown into the confusing, terrifying, and (in hindsight) hilarious environment of middle school drama.Or: the creators' attempt at dealing with middle school's horrors by forcing characters into their depths.
Relationships: Aaron Burr/Theodosia Prevost Burr, Alexander Hamilton/Angelica Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton/Maria Reynolds, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan, Maria Reynolds/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Thomas Jefferson & Angelica Schuyler, Thomas Jefferson/James Madison
Comments: 16
Kudos: 49





	1. Alex vs. the Weather

**Author's Note:**

> French translations:  
> fête = party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander Hamilton has been to a lot of awful schools, but nothing prepared him for Orchard Grove Middle School. And nothing could have prepared him for the people he met there. Adopted into a study group that never studies, Alex is thrown into the confusing, terrifying, and (in hindsight) hilarious environment of middle school drama.
> 
> Or: the creators' attempt at dealing with middle school's horrors by forcing characters into their depths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations:  
> fête = party

Alexander steeled himself. In the days previous, he had told himself over and over again not to fail, not to fail in first impressions. Yet, with all that preparation, he knew that today would end in disaster—absolute and total disaster.

Walking up to the building through the blanket of snow on the ground, Alex wondered if he would make it out of this alive. He knew no one in this city, and he especially didn’t know the weather, all cold and biting as it was. For the first time in his life, he’d had to don a coat, and he didn’t enjoy wearing this new garment. Every time he moved his arms, the material slid against itself, and he could hear a  _ swish _ ,  _ swish _ , which became increasingly more annoying the more it went on. If that wasn’t bad enough, Alex had no boots to save his feet from the neverending snow. He cursed the white flakes for doing this to him, targeting him of everyone and making his life a more miserable mess than it already was. Alex’s feet had gone numb a long time ago, and he could barely keep his feet moving forward.  _ Almost there _ , he promised himself.

The school’s lights looked dreary and boring, yellowing at the edges just enough to look industrial and old at the same time, and neither of those looks were complimentary. The middle school had been built around a decade ago, and every adult Alex had met so far had promised him that the amenities were “quite modern and useful.” Alex knew not to trust adults, at least not in matters of this high importance, but this time he was absolutely certain they were wrong. The building looked like some idiot’s great ideas about education that they put into practice, but they hadn’t consulted a kid in anything. It looked like a disaster waiting to happen, though Alex could admit he was probably biased. 

Coming up to the path that wound around the parking lot and led up to the school’s front entrance, Alex sighed. He made a mental checklist of what to do that day—or not do.

  1. Don’t die.
  2. Refrain from drawing attention.
  3. Don’t rant about random stuff. Wait… random and rant sound similar… is _rantom_ a thing? Ugh, try not to get off topic.
  4. Oh, that’s a good #4 - don’t get off topic.
  5. Attempt to not send all other human beings running.
  6. Don’t land yourself in detention on the first day.
  7. Try not to get all of the staff members to hate you immediately.
  8. Find a lunch table that will accommodate you.
  9. Attempt to make one (1) friend.
  10. All the while trying to learn the customs of the school.



This would be an absolute  _ fête _ *.

Huffing a sigh, Alexander locked his gaze on the light emitted from the front hall. _ Remember first grade? _ his mind asked him. _ You can’t do worse than that.  _ Alex grimaced, the memory of how he had tried to “fit in” resurfacing from where it had been repressed for seven years. Grimacing, he pushed down the image of little Alex crying in front of the whole classroom.

He added another item to his list: 11. Keep inner voice from speaking.

And he pushed open the door.

  
  


_ *fête _ = party


	2. Alex vs. the Megaphone Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex meets the Hamilsquad and is introduced to the infamous Mrs. K after having to deal with a moody Aaron Burr and the obnoxious principal, Ralph Merridew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is where the "long chapters" thing really gets going.  
> Also, Adri's a huge Jalph shipper - can you tell?

As soon as he walked in the door, Alex’s senses were flooded with the sounds of talking, screaming, laughter, and, over all of the noise the passing students were making, the sound of a hoarse voice screaming through a megaphone. 

“Shut up and move!” the short old man standing in the corner (because yes, the hallway had a corner for some reason. As Alex had thought, the building was overwhelmingly confusing) shouted at the students rushing through the halls. A paper ball bounced off his face. 

“Hey!” the man with the megaphone yelled, his voice cracking unnaturally. “Whoever threw that paper, I’ll get you in detention before the day’s done!” Looking at the wide entryway that connected the front doors to the hallway, he spotted Alex, covered with snow and slightly wet. “You’re the new kid!” The man was obviously not asking a question, and, having yelled through the obnoxious megaphone, Alex was unsure whether he had just forgotten to turn it off or really just liked screaming at the children who roamed his hallways through a ridiculously orange noisemaker. Alex was leaning towards the latter. 

Looking across the hall again, the man spotted another student and yelled, “Aaron! I have a job for you!” Lowering his megaphone, the man pressed a large button on the handle and it emitted a crackle that could probably be heard several miles away. Waving at the kid he had called Aaron, the man hooked the megaphone onto a clip on his belt and cocked his head at the little glass room that Alex had guessed was the office. It reminded him of a fishbowl; you could walk by and gawk at the people inside.

Aaron sighed and looked Alex over. He grumbled something to the students next to him and headed towards the glass room. 

Alex followed Aaron in. He was gestured to sit in the uncomfortable-looking paisley chairs, but Alex decided he would rather stand. Aaron, on the other hand, dropped his backpack unceremoniously on the ground and slumped into a seat. 

The man with the megaphone cleared his throat. “Please, sit,” he reiterated, gesturing more avidly towards the paisley monstrosities.

“Thank you, sir,” Alex said, “but I’d rather remain standing. If it makes you feel better, I really do appreciate your hospitality. Having paper balls thrown at you is  _ such _ a nice way to make a positive first impression, don’t you think?” Aaron sighed, and the man glowered. Alex immediately knew he had made an awful mistake.

“Don’t you think that back-talking your elders is not the way you should start your time at this school? You’re going to be here a while. I’ll give you another chance, though, because I’m a good person, and we’re all just trying to make it to high school. Introduce yourself,  _ nicely _ .” Aaron, who was now fiddling with a tiny piece of paper (ironically in the shape of a sphere) he had pulled from his pocket, snickered from the chairs of doom.

“Hi,” Alex drawled sarcastically, “My name is Alexander ‘don’t mess with me’ Hamilton, but you can call me Alexander ‘the boss’ Hamilton as well.”

“Hello, Alexander! I,” the megaphone man, as Alex had dubbed him, cheerfully continued as if he hadn't heard Alex’s snide comment, “am Principle Merridew! Welcome to Orchard Grove Middle School. As it is your first day here, I will be having Aaron show you around.” A groan was heard from the corner as Aaron covered his face with his hands, obviously thinking that he wanted nothing to do with this cocky newcomer. Alex felt the same way. 

A stack of papers somehow found its way into Alex’s hands detailing absolutely every boring aspect of the rules in cheery, colorful letters that hurt Alex’s eyes. He liked Times New Roman font, black, size 12. This just gave him headaches. “These brochures will give you every detail about this school that you will need to know. Dress code, schedule, classes, and room assignments galore!” Alex resisted the urge to set fire to the offensive papers.

Alex glanced at Aaron, who was staring dejectedly at the ceiling. Clearly, he’d heard this spiel before. Alex returned his gaze to the still chatting principal, AKA Mr. Megaphone.

“The counseling office is on the first floor, and you can go there whenever you like. Not, however, in the middle of a class, mind you, but any other time…” Alex stopped listening.

“How about  _ I _ give the tour, Ralph?” asked Aaron, quite obviously tired of the old man’s incessant prattle. “That is my job, is it not?” For once, Alex was immensely grateful to Aaron.

“Oh. Well, I suppose that is what I pay you for…”

“You don’t pay me,” Aaron responded, rolling his eyes. 

“That’s right. Well, you may as well get on with it then, what are you waiting for?” The principal seemed to have regained his overbearing demeanor. “Lunch is coming and I want this kid in the lunch room with all the others. Go on now!” Grumbling, Aaron pulled himself out of the chair, somewhat gratefully, it seemed, and tilted his head towards the door, indicating for Alex to follow him. Grudgingly, Alex walked out behind the boy who was supposed to show him around.

“All right, kid,” Aaron began, obviously bored, “to your right is a hallway, same as with your left. This is where people run, scream, hit each other, and have previously knocked someone out with a textbook. In front of you are stairs. Don’t get shoved down them. Got that?” Aaron looked back at Alex.

“Well, aren’t you in just the best mood ever? Did you eat this morning?”

Aaron responded with a glare. “Connected to that hallway is seventh grade pod A. Inside there is the demon teacher. No one knows her name; she’s just referred to as Mrs. D. Don’t go in there, and you won’t die young - at least, not by her hand.” Alex wasn’t sure what to make of this. “Down these stairs is where you’ll find our pod, 8A. Your locker will be in there, but try not to use it. You’ll find out why soon enough.” Alex nodded, confused and worried. Aaron didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Aaron turned towards a set of greyish (they used to be white) double doors and shoved them open to reveal a set of stairs. A suspicious liquid that Alex sincerely hoped was orange juice slowly trickled down the steps. Aaron’s nose wrinkled, but he continued downwards anyway. “That’s the pod,” Aaron said once they’d left the odorous stairs, pointing at more dismal grey doors. The two of them passed another staircase, and a glass wall was revealed behind it, though Alex couldn’t see anything but blurry shapes behind it; the glass was covered in fingerprints. Suddenly, a face appeared and licked the glass before joining the other vaguely humanoid figures once again. As he watched the window-licker return to their place through the wet stripe on the glass, Alex fought the urge to throw up. “Those are the science labs, but we mostly just sit in a circle and talk about our feelings because some kid set himself on fire a few years ago.” Aaron’s tone was completely devoid of emotion, and Alex couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. Alex was also getting slightly worried for his health. 

“Here’s 8B, where they put all the bad kids. You don’t want to have to go in there either.”

“So, basically,” Alex summarized, “it was a horrible choice to be enrolled in this school at all?”

“Basically,” Aaron replied. “Middle school in general was a bad idea.”

Alex nodded, and Aaron pointed to his left. “Through that weird little entrance are the Spanish and art rooms, and through these,” Aaron gestured to another set of ugly doors, “is the gym. Avoid going in there at all costs unless you have a death wish or a class there, in which case, do everything you can to get yourself out.”

Alex blinked. “Okay…” he started, “what is this school’s problem?”

“It just kind of exists, and the kids have destroyed the building and the teacher’s minds, so they really don’t care what anyone does. It’s all chaos, so we’re basically in  _ Lord of the Flies _ , just worse; we don’t get as much food.”

“But… wait, how is this legal?” Alex wondered, seriously regretting ever stepping foot in this horrid building.

“It’s probably not, but we don’t learn enough to go against administration. And no one really cares enough.” Alex sighed; he wasn’t sure whether this guy was exaggerating or Alex’s brother had made a very bad decision in moving to this town.

“Oh, yeah, and down that hallway is a set of doors that lead to the outdoor basketball courts. My advice: don’t sign up for extracurriculars.”

Suddenly, a strange dinging noise was heard throughout the entire school. “Well, that’s our cue to go to lunch. The rest of the school is unimportant anyway. It’s all awful. I hope you brought food, and even if you did it will most likely be stolen. The lunch room is just that way.” Aaron turned back the way the two boys had come and started heading down the hallway. “Good luck!” he called over his shoulder.

“Thanks a lot,” Alex muttered to himself, hurrying to follow Aaron. He had to walk faster to keep up with Aaron, as the other boy had a head start. “Wait - how to the seats work in lunch?” 

Aaron laughed mercilessly. “We have ‘assigned seats,’ but no one cares or follows the rules. Sit where you want.”

_ Well,  _ thought Alex,  _ this will be even worse than the rest of the day combined.  _

A rush of students flooded around Alex, shoving and elbowing the other students around them to get into the cafetorium (cafeteria and auditorium) faster. Aaron was lost from Alex’s view, and he pushed his way to the side, hoping to wait until the stampede was over. After most of the students had made their way inside, he cautiously made his way from the corner (because yes, this hallway had corners as well) and made his way toward the doors of the lunch room.

Walking inside, he was hit with a wall of noise that was louder than most sports arenas, and he had to wrinkle his nose at the smell of several sandwiches which had, so to speak,  _ passed their prime _ . Trying to breathe through his mouth, Alex scouted the overflowing room for Aaron, the only person he knew so far. 

Spotting his acquaintance in the back at a table with a small group of other people, Alex began the treacherous journey through the lunch room, attempting to avoid the numerous spoiled bananas that littered the floor. He managed to do so quite nicely but was instead hit with one of the aforementioned fruits in the head. Throwing the banana back in the direction it came from, Alex felt his expression morph into one of anger. This school was crap, the people were evil, the food smelled less than desirable, and the adults had no control over the students. It would be torture to go here for any more than, well, two seconds, and those few moments had already been spent.

As Aaron’s table came into sight, Alex tried to calm himself down and sat down at the seat right next to Aaron. Aaron glared at Alex and said, “What are you doing at my table, Alex?” 

Alex replied, “Sadly, you are the only wretched person I know in this entire school. So, naturally, I headed for you and not some idiot that throws bananas at people.”

One of the boys across from Aaron said, “That would be Archibald. He has anger issues.” The others at the table all laughed, and one smacked the kid who had pointed out Archibald on the back and called him “Lauren.” Aaron sighed and pointed to Lauren, as Alex knew him. “That’s John, but his last name is Laurens.” Pointing to the kid next to John, Aaron said, “That’s Hercules Mulligan with the beanie on, and the kid next to him with the pile of candy is Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, but he prefers to be called Marie.”

“I do not prefer Marie, you idiot! I go by Lafayette!” Lafayette poured another small bag of candy into his mouth. 

“Yeah, but his first name’s Marie. Call him Laf. Or Lafayette. Or, I don’t know,  _ everyone’s favorite fighting Frenchman _ . He was in that phase for a while. Next to him is James Madison, and the one with way too much hair next to James is Thomas Jefferson. Then, those three girls are Angelica, Eliza, and-” Aaron began.

“AND PEGGY!” the third one screamed, loud enough to be heard across the room. (And that meant a lot because the room was very,  _ very _ loud.)

“That’s Margarita. Or Margaret. Both are on her birth certificate for some reason. Long story,” Eliza added, sticking a few pretzels in her mouth and swallowing. “But she prefers…” Eliza was clearly expecting the next words to be shouted by Peggy, but for some reason Peggy was looking in the other direction and didn’t seem to have heard. “Peggy.”

“That’s everyone,” Aaron said, looking back to Alex. “I hope you survive middle school, because it’s possible I won't.”

John turned to Aaron, eyes wide with surprise. Facing Alex, he said, “That’s the nicest he’s been to anyone. Did you give him money or something?”

“Um, not that I know of.”

Just then, the same annoying pinging sound that he had heard when Aaron had abandoned him in the hallway met Alex’s ears. It rang three times, though occasionally it rang only once. Everyone at the table started frantically throwing containers into their lunch boxes, and several took off running.

“Alright, Alex,” Aaron said standing up. “You’re shadowing me today, so just follow me through the next two hours. My fifth hour is science, and my sixth is band.” He made a sour face at the word  _ band _ and then continued, “So just try to tune out all the horrific things people say. And don’t cross the science teacher, or you’ll regret it for the rest of the year.”

“But I thought the demon teacher was only for seventh graders.”

Aaron smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “One thing you’ll learn, kid, is that they’re all demon teachers.” With that, Aaron turned and walked away briskly, causing Alex to hurriedly stand and follow him.

After trailing his new “friend” to the lockers and through the “pod” to the science classroom, Alex was greeted by a smiling plastic skeleton. It stood to the side of the door frame, so when you walked in, you almost ran into this model.  _ At least _ , Alex thought,  _ it isn’t a mannequin. _ At the thought, he gulped and tried to shove down the memory of his first grade…  _ incident. _

“Alright, settle down, everyone!” the teacher yelled, stalking back and forth across the front of the classroom. Alex was standing in the corner, as there were no empty seats, and he was unsure of what to do.

“I see we have a new student,” she squacked, venom lacing her voice. Sending a glare in Alex’s direction, she muttered, “I quit my accounting job for  _ this _ ?” Sweeping her glare across the classroom, she pointed to a chair sitting at the table in the front. “You can use that one. Go sit with whoever you’re shadowing; don’t make any noise or sudden movements, and we’ll have no problems. Got that?” Suddenly, she whipped around towards three girls sitting in the front row. “Payton! Abby! Lucy! I see that note your passing! Hand it to me on your way to separate classrooms for a reflection.” The three girls filed out past Alex, all muttering about the unfairness of it all. One glared at him, one didn’t seem to notice him, and the third winked at him as she passed by. 

Alex was thoroughly disturbed. He took the chair and dragged it awkwardly towards Aaron, who sighed and rifled through a stack of papers he had pulled from the depths of his backpack. 

Leaning over to Aaron, Alex whispered, “What do I do?”

“Just wait until she hands you a worksheet and then Google the answers under your desk. She doesn’t actually teach us anything, just expects us to know it. And make sure to have it done by the end of class, or you’ll get an ‘F’ on that assignment.”

“Okay…” Alex muttered.

“And, before I forget, webquests are terrible. We do them at least once a week, and for that you have actual Chromebooks out. But almost all of the websites are blocked, so be ready to be yelled at for the fact that you can’t control what they block.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” Alex whispered back.

“The administrators, the aliens, some rich family who controls everything. We don’t really know,” Aaron responded.

Alex nodded slowly. He was at a loss for words. What was wrong with this school?

“Aaron, are you listening to me?” the teacher squacked. “I said, I couldn’t get to school on time because my car broke down. Feel a little empathy, will you?” she ordered.

Aaron bowed his head, an obvious act, as Alex could see the smirk forming across his lips. “Of course. I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” The teacher’s face tinged purple, but she said nothing in response to Aaron’s comment as she went on about some scientific article she had found on how teenagers are ruining the world.

“I thought this would be the  _ perfect _ article for you to do a 10% summary on, don’t you agree?”

The class was absolutely silent, before saying, “Yes, Mrs. K,” in unison. 

“Right! That’s what I want to hear! Don’t forget to count the words twice! And yes, you do have to fill out the guide before writing it all out again on a separate sheet of notebook paper.” Mrs. K walked to the back of the classroom where she had a perfect look out for students not using computers for school work and called a student to pass out the articles. The ungrateful blonde slapped the magazines down on each person’s desk, making sure to hit Alex’s hands. 

“Level zero talking, and if I hear a peep out of any of you, you’ll go on reflection. Remember, three reflections equals a referral.” The class fell silent, and all Alex could hear was the scratching of pencils on paper. Not long after everyone had started, Mrs. K began to walk around the room. As she passed Alex, he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his skull. The sensation was brief but terrible. Alex started writing again, as Aaron once more lost count of the words.

“Billy!” Mrs. K’s sharp voice cut across the room, startling Alex and making him drop his pencil. Mrs. K held up Billy’s paper to show the class, and everyone saw the tiny doodle in one corner. “I told you to stay on task!” she yelled, promptly ripping Billy’s paper in two and tossing it into the recycling bin. “This is what happens when you don’t work hard, kids. Billy, you get an ‘F’ both on paper and for today’s participation. Now go on reflection.”

Alex resisted the urge to clear his throat. If this was  _ not _ the Demon Teacher, who was? He hastily picked up his article and held it to his eyes, trying to block Mrs. K from his vision. He got through three paragraphs before the teacher slapped down the magazine he was holding, crumpling it on the desk. “What are you hiding from me, you ungrateful ragamuffin? This is like the PSAT - papers, calculators, and magazines are flat on the desk at all times! This is preparation for life! Now, where’s the phone? I know you kids are looking at weird crap online in my class, now hand it over!”

Alex gulped. “But, I don’t have a phone, Your Grace.” The entire classroom fell into an even deeper - if that was even possible - silence. 

“Why you little… stand up!” She said harshly, motioning for Alex to stand. “Turn out your pockets, child! I’m confiscating anything you have in there.” Alex reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a tube of chapstick, a dirty Kleenex, and a few paperclips. 

“This is all I have, ma’am,” he said truthfully. Somehow, Mrs. K’s face grew even more red.

“Now, I doubt that’s true, young man. Show me what you’ve really got, and then give me your parent’s phone number.” Alex started to protest, but Mrs. K cut him off.

“Go to the art room, and take a reflection form. Take a pencil and nothing else. See ya’ later, you liar.”

“But if I can only take a pencil then how do I take the reflection sheet over there?” Alex asked, only a little bit of the taunting tone he wanted to use showing through.

“Young man, are you talking back to your elders? You should know better.” 

“Nope, definitely wasn’t talking back,” Alex said quickly, then grabbed his pencil and a reflection sheet off of the table where he had gotten his chair. He refused to bow his head as he walked out of the room, and he barely refrained from slamming the door behind him.

Alex didn’t know where to go. He remembered Aaron pointing out the art and Spanish rooms before, but he didn’t remember where to go. Which meant wandering the halls until he found where he needed to go. Alex was pretty sure he was on the right floor, but other than that, he had no clue.

“Hey, Alex!” a voice called to him.

He turned, seeing his tablemate John Laurens coming down the stairs. “Hey John.”

“What are you doing out of class?” John asked, noting the reflection form in Alex’s hand.

“Mrs. K sent me out for playing on my nonexistent phone. Oh, and I’m also not supposed to have books open that aren’t flat on the table.”

John grimaced. “That’s Mrs. K alright. Don’t take it personally. She’s an all-around maniac about making everyone get ‘C’s - or worse. Where are you supposed to go?”

“The art room. I don’t know where that -”

“I’ll show you,” John interjected, hopping down the rest of the flight of stairs and coming to stand by Alex. “If you go around the stairs, the gym doors are there, and to the left to them there’s an alcove-type thing, and the art room is the one right inside. Follow me.”

John took Alex on a shorter and yet more informative tour of the lower floor than Aaron did, pointing out the gym and the Spanish and art rooms. Alex had the feeling that John was just stalling, but he didn’t argue.

“So this,” John explained, gesturing to the glass-enclosed alcove, “is where the art and Spanish rooms are. The one on the right is art.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, moving towards the art room again.

“Anytime,” John said with a bright smile. “You’re shadowing Aaron today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll see you in band then. It’s a nightmare, but some of the other kids are cool. And most of the kids at our lunch table are in it too.” 

Alex thought this was kind of unnecessary, but he preferred talking with John to dealing with Mrs. K or Aaron or, needless to say, the chaos of the lunch room. “Thanks. I’ll see you next hour,” Alex said.

“You too!” With that, John waved and disappeared from the strange niche the art room was located in.

Considerably happier than when he had left Mrs. K’s room, Alex entered the art class, hoping the teacher was nice. Or at least nicer than the others he had met so far.


	3. Alex vs. Band Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter band class, featuring band director Charles "Charlie" Lee, who has no authority whatsoever and lets the kids run wild.  
> Alex gets interrogated by Peggy and then welcomed into the study group. John's hair gets stuck in a trumpet. Chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, this is an accurate representation of what happens in band class in real life.

Alex finished his reflection just before the bell rang to signal the end of fifth hour. He had gone out into the hallway, thinking that he could find his way to the band room (he was mistaken) and was now just standing as hoards of people passed by, hoping to see someone he recognized. He searched through the swarms of people, but he had never seen anyone who passed by. His thinking was interrupted just when he had almost given up hope. 

“ _ Alex _ , what are you doing here?” Aaron called, an edge of annoyance apparent in his tone. Alex looked next to him, and there was Aaron’s scowling face. “Do I have to babysit you?”

Alex stumbled over his words. “Um, no. I just don’t know where the band room is.”

Aaron groaned. “Follow me, and try not to get lost.”

“Easier said than done,” Alex muttered but followed anyway.

Alex almost asked for a leash to attach to Aaron as he expertly wove his way through the halls. As it was, he could barely track the other boy as he slipped between people, and Alex found himself nearly lost more than once, not to mention the number of people who shoved him. He followed Aaron down the hallway and up the stairs, and then into what had briefly been explained as the band room. 

As soon as he entered the room, Alex was hit with a tidal wave of noise: people screaming, instruments used in ways they were most definitely not supposed to be used in, and the occasional crash of music stands and chairs hitting the floor. From that moment, Alex knew this, even more than Mrs. K’s class, would be the worst class he’d ever seen. Surveying the room, Alex saw mostly unfamiliar faces. There were Hercules and Lafayette in the corner, seemingly inspecting something on the floor, Angelica having a heated debate with a scared-looking flutist, and John struggling to remove a lock of hair from his trumpet keys. When he saw Alex, John smiled and waved. Alex waved back awkwardly, and after looking at Aaron (who glared at Alex), he walked over to the empty seat next to John. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” John was still struggling with his hair and the trumpet. 

“Do you want some help with that?” Alex asked, referring to the stray curl stuck between the three valves. 

“Sure,” John said, offering Alex the instrument. Nimbly, Alex untangled John’s hair with minimal squeaks of pain from John. “Thanks, Alex.”

“You’re welcome. But… how did you get hair stuck in your instrument anyway? And within the first five minutes of class?” 

John sighed. “It just kind of happens.”

“Alright, shut up! We need to start already!” a high, nasally voice sounded. A small and angry looking blonde (who Alex assumed to be the teacher) squeaked, “Class started ten minutes ago!”

Alex startled and glanced at the clock. It had not been ten minutes. 

In response, the class only got louder, laughing and shouts filling the room, making Alex’s head hurt.  _ What is  _ wrong _ with this class? _ he wondered, plugging his ears as much as he could.

“Alexander!” someone shouted. Alex groaned and looked up to see one of the three girls from his lunch table marching towards him. In a flash of panic, Alex realized he didn’t know her name.

“Um… hi,” he mumbled intelligibly, trying unsuccessfully to think in the chaos.

The girl in front of him held out her hand. He took it, thinking she was greeting him by shaking hands, but he was then forcefully yanked from his seat and dragged into the hall at the back of the band room. He flashed an apologetic smile at Laurens, who nodded knowingly. She then pulled him into one of the small rooms lining the hall, and shut the door behind the two of them, kicking it for good measure. Some (but definitely not all) of the noise that the rowdy students were making was blocked out, and Alex sighed in relief.

“Where are we? And, will I get sent on yet another reflection for this?”

The girl laughed without humor. “No one gets sent out in this class. It’ll take Lee twenty minutes just to figure out we’re gone, and that will be when he takes attendance. And then, someone will distract him, and he’ll forget about attendance altogether. Oh, to answer your first question, we’re in a ‘practice room.’ That is, a room that’s never locked that kids are supposed to practice in. Needless to say, they don’t.” She paused to take a breath. “By the way, I’m Angelica Schuyler.”

She held out her hand again, and Alex was hesitant to take it, thinking she might try to yank his arm out of its socket again. “I’m not going to bite you - probably. Unless, that is, you try to bite me.” Alex pulled his hand back.

He swallowed. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Alex.”

“I know,” she stated simply, and walked out of the practice room, leaving Alex staring after her in confusion. As he slowly gathered his wits, another girl walked into the tiny room.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Eliza, Angelica’s sister. Sorry about her aggressive tendencies. It’s kind of an acquired taste. You’ll get used to her. Well, welcome to Orchard Grove, I suppose. It’s an awful school with awful students, so… try not to get too involved. Through a unanimous decision, the after school study group has elected that you join us! Except for Aaron. He didn’t want you around, but, to be honest, his votes don’t count anyway - no one cares about his opinion. On a better note, this,” she said, holding up a few pieces of notebook paper, “is a list of everyone in the group, their phone numbers, and any extracurriculars, which is very few, save for Angelica being on the ultimate frisbee team. And Laurens swims. Other than that, we try to stay far away from other people. We’re crazy enough by ourselves.” She smiled, offering the loose papers to Alex. 

“Thanks,” he said, rifling through them. 

“If you’re wondering why we brought you back here, the three of us are the self-appointed welcoming squad for band. We do this for everyone who is a new-comer. But most aren’t invited to join the study group.” Eliza looked down at the paper she was holding. “Well, I think that’s all I’m supposed to do, but my sister Peggy will show up any minute.”

“Wait,” Alex said, slightly confused, “You’re sisters?”

“Yep. Angelica was so opposed to being separated from me that she insisted she wait a year to start school until I was ready to.” A knocking was heard at the door, and Alex looked around Eliza to see Peggy in the window motioning for Eliza to let her have her turn. “Well then, good luck with Peggy!” Eliza said, opening the door behind her and scolding Peggy on the way out. Considering that Eliza had wished him luck with her sister, Alex wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Sure, Peggy seemed a little eccentric, but she couldn’t be that bad. Nothing worse than he had already experienced at this awful school. 

“Hi Alex!” The girl outside the door bounced into the practice room and was yelling at what seemed to be the middle of her lungs (Alex didn’t want to hear her scream at the  _ top _ of her lungs). “I’m PEGGY! Eliza’s sister. How are you today?”

Alex was confused. Peggy’s intense energy seemed to just radiate from her, and it was giving Alex anxiety. “Um, fine, I guess?” Alex responded hesitantly.

“Wrong answer,” Peggy said, slamming the door shut behind her. She flipped the light switches, and the room dissolved into dim shadows. The only light shone from the tiny window on the door. The lighting made Peggy look like a murderer, the shadows twisting her features. “I’m sure you had an awful day. I mean, this school is pretty horrible.” She laughed maniacally for a few seconds, just long enough to make it creepily genuine. Peggy planted a firm hand in the center of Alex’s chest, effectively shoving him backwards and causing him to fall into the chair behind him. “So, I ask you again: How are you?” She towered over Alex, dark hair slipping over her shoulders to hang in her face.

Alex was petrified for a minute. Whatever he had expected of Peggy, this was worse than he had ever imagined. “Um, pretty awful?” 

“There you go!” Peggy said, her face lighting up cheerfully. “The first thing you learn with me around is to always tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Well done. But, next time, answer me honestly _ the first time _ ,” she said, turning to flip the lights back on and offering Alex a hand. When he didn’t accept her hand within a few seconds, she turned and walked out the door, revealing Eliza standing outside. 

“Sorry about her,” Eliza apologized, “She can get a little out of control sometimes, and we’re never sure what she’s going to do. We tried taking her to a therapist, but he decided he didn’t want to deal with her.” Alex nodded mutely. He was still unsure as to what had just happened. “Oh, and meet the rest of the study group outside of the band room doors right after school today - that is, if you can. It’s not required, but do you think you can make it?”

“Sure.”

“Awesome,” Eliza beamed, “I’ll be waiting for you.” She smiled for a second.

Suddenly, a shout resounded through the hallway. “Why do you always need new reeds?” a squeaky voice yelled.

“It’s Mr. Lee,” Eliza whispered harshly, diving into the practice room and pulling the door shut behind her before shutting off the lights. She grabbed Alex and yanked him beneath the window of the door so the teacher couldn’t see in. The two heard footsteps outside, accompanied by Lee’s grumbling. When they heard the opening of another door, Eliza whispered, “Come on.” She cracked open the door and pulled Alex quickly through it, making an escape as Lee was occupied with the contents of the closet down the hall. Alex and Eliza darted back into the band room, their entrance ignored for the most part by the other band members. Alex walked back over to the row of trumpets where he was sitting earlier, and Eliza sat on the far end of the first row.

“Hey,” John greeted Alex as he sat down, “What happened with Peggy?” 

“She turned the place into a CIA interrogation room.”

“Oh, I haven’t heard that one before. I mean, she’s pretty original with this stuff. Last time, she introduced the entire band to the student with an operatic solo.” He paused. “She can’t sing very well.”

“So, I’m not the only one?”

John laughed. “Not by a long shot. She harasses every new band member we get. But, she’s a cool person when you get to know her, and she’s one of the original members of the study group. And, well, she’s a Schuyler sister. Angelica would kill us with a broom if we didn’t hang out with Peggy. Besides, she’s a pretty good student who lets us copy off of her work. Okay, I’m just rambling now. By the way, are going to join us today?” 

“Yeah. I don’t do much after school. Considering I just moved here and don’t have friends.” 

“I’m your friend. I mean, if you want to be. I mean - if you want me to be.”

Alex smiled. “I’d love to be your friend.”

_ Crash! _

Alex’s smile faded. “What was that?”

Laurens frowned. “Either some kid brought explosives to school again, or Charlie fell over in the supply closet. Again.”

“Which is more likely?”

“Both.”

Screaming was heard in the background, and most of the class laughed. 

“Help, I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up!” Mr. Lee pleaded.

The class laughed harder, and, despite how awful the day had been, Alex found himself smiling. 

“Someone help! I’m in the closet!” 

The classroom erupted into laughter, Alex and John joining in.

“Me too!” a kid shouted, unidentifiable among the shouts and screams. The kid earned a round of applause.

After he had finished laughing, Alex turned to John and asked, “Should we help him?”

John shrugged. “Probably not. We have to teach him a lesson.”

“But… he’s the teacher,” Alex pointed out, minorly confused.

“But he doesn’t teach us.”

Alex thought about it for a minute. “Good point.”

The band suddenly quieted down, everyone looking towards the hallway that led to the supply closet and the practice rooms. Lee staggered out, limping exaggeratedly. “Well thanks for all your help, kids,” he mumbled, trying to dislodge a mothball that was clinging to his pants. The class burst into laughter once again. “You bunch of ragamuffins are useless!” Lee was shouting now. “What would have happened if I had broken my leg or otherwise seriously injured myself?” 

“Well, you probably would have died back there,” Jefferson said, his voice filled with sarcasm.

“And you would have screamed your head off,” added James.

“And then we’d all have awful headaches,” Jefferson continued.

“And, finally, someone would have gagged you.”

“Eventually, we’d call 911 just to make you shut up.”

“AND THEN YOU’D DIE IN THE HOSPITAL!” Peggy shouted, her voice dominating all of the other additions to the story. 

“What is the meaning of this?” a voice boomed. All of the students sat up straighter, and one trumpet finally pulled her instrument out of its case. 

Lee’s face seemed to drain of all color. “M-Mr. Washington.”

“Lee.” The man came fully into the band room. “Or, as your students call you,  _ Charlie _ .”

Alex leaned over to John. “Who is this guy?” 

“That’s Mr. Washington,” John whispered back, “the high school band director. Every now and then he comes by to teach us what high school will be like and actually make us play our instruments.” 

Alex nodded slowly. 

“So.” Mr. Washington climbed onto the director’s podium that Lee usually occupied, while Lee tried to sink into the floor and failed. “For those of you who don’t know me” - he stared right at Alex - “I’m Director Washington. I teach band at the high school.”

The room was eerily silent, a severe contrast to their screams and shouts before.

“I’m here to -” He was interrupted by a brass player in the back row making a fart noise on his instrument. Several people giggled, and smothered laughter could be heard from every section. Then everyone burst out laughing. Lee shrank even further into the ground, if that were possible, and Mr. Washington glared at the kids. After a few tense moments, he threw his hands up before stepping off the podium and exiting the band room, slamming the door behind him.

Everyone looked at Lee, and he seemed on the verge of tears. Upon further inspection, his hands were shaking. 

“I can’t do this today,” Lee bawled. “You can get on the Chromebooks if you want, talk if that’s your preference, but I am going to go to the choir room and sit there in my misery.”

Someone whisper-shouted, “Enjoy your time-out, Charlie.”

Another kid added, “Hope you don’t pee your pants.”

Lee could be heard sobbing as he walked down the hallway that connected the choir and band rooms. 

Alex looked at John, completely lost. “Is this normal?” 

“Yeah,” John responded, shrugging. “This happens a lot. He cries at least once a week and we’ve all started betting on how many days it happens. No money is involved, though - mostly, we use pencils or candy or chips or bragging rights,” he added quickly when he saw Alex’s look of surprise.

“Doesn’t anyone feel sorry for him? Even a little bit? I mean, he’s obviously an idiot, but this is just plain cruel.”

“If you had been here when he made us play ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’ for our Spring concert in sixth grade, you would hate him too. It was the most humiliating experience of my life, and, trust me, I’ve done a  _ lot _ of dumb things.”

“Okay…”

“Anyway, we can do whatever we want for the rest of the hour. Strange things happen at this point because Lee isn’t around. I’ve watched people rip their shirts open and then strut around the class half-naked.”

“Okay…”

“It gets wild. There was also that one time when people stacked a bunch of chairs up to make a tower and then left someone stranded up on top of the lockers. I’m betting there’s gonna be a music stand fight one of these days. Those are always entertaining. It doesn’t happen very often, though. I guess these people aren’t too in to  _ Star Wars  _ anymore. I honestly am sad because, if one doesn’t happen again this year, I have to pay Angelica my shoe. And I like my shoes.”

“You could give a shoe you don’t like,” Alex suggested.

“No, she wants one in particular. She knows I like it.”

“And, what if you win this bet?”

“She gives me her favorite pair of high-heeled black boots. Maybe she’ll show you them today when we get to her house.” 

“We’re going to her house?” Alex asked.

“Yep. We draw names out of a hat, and we often end up at the Schuylers' place because all three of them put their names in. If we draw one of them we work in whoever’s room we drew. But, when the weather’s nice, we often go outside instead.” 

As Alex and John were talking, Lee had emerged from the choir room (or the cryer-room, as many of the band kids referred to it) and was now on top of the podium once again. 

“Listen up, you idiots!” Lee said in a small voice almost undetectable through all of the other noise. “You need to learn a thing or two about respect! Respect - R-E-S-P-E-C-T!”

At this moment, one of the kids started singing, “Find out what it means to me!”

Lee sniffled. “If you don’t have any respect for people, you will go nowhere in life! You have to be able to respect people if you want to be able to interact with others! And you won’t go anywhere without that interaction! So learn some respect!”

“Just put a sock in it already, Charlie!” was heard from the middle of the room, followed by the bell ringing and miserable crying from Lee. 

“Alex!” John yelled after his new friend. “Get your stuff from the lockers and meet us outside the band room door.” He ran out the door, followed by the mass of band students trying to leave the building as fast as possible.


	4. Alex vs. the Outline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex attends a study group meeting and changes it forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations are at the beginning AND the end.  
> * I am sorry, ma’am!  
> ** I did it on a dare!  
> *** Nevertheless, a dare.  
> **** I want a divorce!

“What took you so long?” Angelica demanded. 

Alex had finally made his way out of the school, and he had finally joined the study group outside the band room. “Sorry, my head was slammed into someone else’s locker. I apologise for not dying,” he snapped.

Lafayette whistled. “And that,” he said, “is why you never put stuff in your locker.”

“Point taken,” Alex grumbled, rubbing his head where a bruise was already forming.

“Anyway,” Angelica said, impatiently tapping her foot, “we should get going to my house soon. I have an entire essay to write tonight.”

“I can help with that!” Alex volunteered quickly, immediately regretting his brain's attempt to impress the group. 

Angelica eyed him suspiciously. “Are you a good writer?” 

Alex nervously replied, “Yes, people have said that about me.”

“Well then,” Angelica said, picking up her backpack, “you should be a decent addition to the group. Let's go.” Swinging her hair over her shoulder, she set off down the path that lead to the woods. The rest of the group followed, pairing off and talking amongst themselves. 

“Hey,” a voice started. Alex looked to his left where John was walking. 

“Hey. So what exactly is the study group?” Alex asked. “I've been invited to join by like four different people but I don't really know what it actually is.”

“We basically just all bring our homework and help each other do what they’re not that good at. For example, one person will watch a video and fill out the worksheet for everyone to copy off of while someone else sketches a first draft of their art project. We also all have our strong points so we help each other when we're struggling with something. It's a pretty good system, but we don't always get a lot done, and sometimes they turn into impromptu sleepovers.”

“Also, what's Angelica's deal? Is she always so curst?” Alex wondered, starting after her.

“Yeah, she is. You’ll get used to it. She's really a nice person, though... once you get to know her.”

“Oh.” Alex wasn't sure what to make of this information. 

“You'll get used to us,” John assured him. “They can be a little intense-” Alex snorted - “Okay, we're pretty crazy,” John amended. “It grows on you though. I was terrified of Angelica for all of sixth grade, but she only scares me when she's mad now.”

"Is she worse when she's mad?"

“Yes. But she's always at least a little mad.”

_ Wow, _ Alex thought,  _ because that definitely makes me want to be around her more.  _ Except, in the weirdest way, it did.

After a moment, John asked, “So, did you get any homework today?”

“No. I was out on reflection for most of my fifth hour, and band…well, you know how that went.”

John cut in, “I do indeed. It can get pretty bad, and while we are required to practice a hundred minutes a week, you don’t have to turn in a single one to pass the class. It’s not like Mr. Lee grades anything anyway. Although Lafayette somehow managed to get an ‘F’ once. He had to really try for that one though.”

“How so? How do you  _ try _ to get an ‘F’?”

John laughed, saying, “That’s just Laf. He does some weird things. Like sitting on the lockers all hour and throwing crumpled notebook paper at everyone. Then, he just skipped a bunch and made faces through the tiny window. And that finally,  _ finally _ , got Mr. Lee to mark him down for participation. Basically, you’ll be fine. With a few exceptions, the teachers usually leave you alone if you’re not the most outstanding child in the school or one of the bad kids.”

“Is that a challenge?” Alex asked jokingly.

John raised his eyebrows. “A challenge I wouldn’t recommend winning.”

Alex grinned. “Quite poetic. But, publicity is my middle name.”

John crossed his arms. The action didn’t work so well because he was carrying a binder and several notebooks. “That’s not a middle name you want at this school.”

Suddenly, someone grabbed Alex’s arm and dragged him over and into the bushes that separated the path from the houses. He cried out, the branches scratching against his face and limbs. Alex attempted to pull his arm back, but his captor, now identified as Lafayette, would not let go. 

“Why are we crawling through a bush?” he asked angrily. “And you can let go now, Laf,” he snapped.

Lafayette grinned, and the two boys popped out into the light once more. 

“We take a shortcut because our backyard connects to the path,” Eliza explained. “Sorry for not telling you earlier - I thought the boys would.” Eliza directed a glare at Lafayette. 

“Stop bickering; we have things to do. Just come inside, everyone.” Angelica pointed to the door that lead into the house. Lafayette took off running, yelling something in French which translated to, “Yay! The Schuylers have the best snacks!” 

Angelica placed her hands on her hips and yelled back, “No running by the pool, idiot!”

Lafayette stopped running immediately, effectively sliding a few feet farther. “Je suis désolé, mademoiselle*!”

Shaking her head, Angelica walked after him, prompting the rest of the group to trail in behind her. Alex followed John in.

Once he got inside, Alex sighed in relief at the warm air meeting his face. The rest of the people in front of him (including the three sisters) had all pulled off their coats and tossed them in pile next to the door. Alex unzipped his and reluctantly added it to the heap. As they seemed to just leave everything sitting by the door, Alex pulled his sneakers off an added then to the jumble of shoes, hoping that neither of them were stolen and that they would stay decently dry.

Keeping his backpack with him, Alex followed Hercules up the stairs.

They turned into the first room on the left, where everyone else had already sprawled themselves across furniture and the floor. Someone appeared to have already raided the kitchen, as there were bags of chips and other snacks spread amongst the notebooks and pencils. Looking closer, Alex saw that it was Peggy that these snacks centered around, and she was munching on what looked like too big of a mouthful of Cheetos, the orange, artificially flavored cheese dust stuck on her fingers and creating a ring around her mouth.

“Listen up, people,” Angelica shouted over the voices and crunching of chips, silencing everyone. She stood on her bed and pointed to a whiteboard. “Everyone grab a different color and make a list of the different assignments you have to complete.” She dumped a bag of dry-erase markers on the ground, every color of the rainbow available. The people surrounding Alex scrambled to get a good color, leaving Alex confused and stuck with the brown one.

Everyone in the room rifled through their stacks of papers, notebooks, and binders, lining up in front of the board to wait their turn to write everything down. In just a couple of minutes, lists of assignments filled the board. When Alex reached the board, he wrote, “N/A” and moved on.

“I see that science homework seems to be a priority for many of you, so anyone that wants to do that first, you get that corner.” Angelica pointed to the corner housing a chair and a desk. “People who have to write essays and 10% summaries, that corner.” She pointed again. “The rest of you - those of you who apparently don’t care about your grades - do whatever.” Angelica hopped off her bed and walked over to Alex. “You promised me help on my essay.” It wasn’t a question. Angelica crossed her arms menacingly.

“Yeah…” Alex responded, worried and instantly regretting his earlier offer even more.

Angelica handed him a piece of paper with a prompt on it.  _ Describe how Napoleon’s character relates to his real counterpart, Joseph Stalin.  _ More details were provided, but Alex needed no more instruction.

“Okay, so you’re reading _Animal Farm_ , right?”  
“Obviously.”

“Have you finished it yet?”

“Yeah. It was a kind of sad ending but it appealed to my sense of humor.”

Alex was unsure of how to respond to that. “Okay… Well, there were a lot of similarities between Joseph Stalin and Napoleon, right? What could those be?”

“Both were pigs.”

“Why don’t we make a list?” Alex wasn’t sure this was going to work out. Angelica didn’t seem to like him, and he wasn’t sure if she was just being difficult or was usually like this. 

Angelica glanced over at him skeptically and pulled a piece of paper out of the notebook in front of her. She ripped the fringed paper off the side in one smooth tear, the edge of the paper completely straight. Alex was slightly terrified.

Angelica was unlike any person he had ever met, and she was intimidating. Alex was not easily intimidated; none of the teachers at Orchard Grove, even Mrs. K, scared him, but Angelica? She was a threatening presence.

“So… what do you have on that list so far?” Alex leaned over her shoulder, trying to see what she had written. She moved the trailing pink shirtsleeve off of her paper to reveal the messiest cursive that Alex had ever seen in his life. “Um, I can’t read that. Could you say that aloud please?” One of Angelica’s eyebrows creeped upwards, giving Alex the “are you serious right now?” look.

“Of course I can, Alex,” she said, and he wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not. “1) Both are creepy villains; 2) Both are alcoholics; 3) They both have guards and live in palaces; 4) Both supported Communism; 5) They are both amazing people who are my idols.”

Alex really didn’t know how to respond. Angelica had read the list off in a monotone, no expression or emotion entering her voice in the slightest. Was she being sarcastic? Was she serious? He had no idea. He took a calming breath. “It looks like you’re off to a good start. Now, let’s put these into an outline.”

He reached for the pencil she had in her hand and tried to dislodge it from her grasp. She didn’t let go. Alex pulled harder, and he watched as her fingers tightened around the wooden writing utensil. Alex gave the pencil a forceful tug, but, once again, it didn’t budge. Giving up, Alex let go and unzipped his pencil pouch to look for one of his pens.

Angelica glanced at his actions, then at her pencil. “Oh, did you want this?” she asked, waving her pencil slightly, her face completely innocent.

Alex just stared. He took another calming breath. “Yes, actually. Thank you for noticing,” he replied frostily. 

“Here.” She handed the writing utensil to him like she didn’t know or remember the events of two seconds ago.

“Okay, so with outlines, give it a title, then mark I, II, III, IV, and V - introduction, three body paragraphs, and a conclusion - and add a few important details to each paragraph, represented by uppercase letters.” 

“Alright.” Angelica pulled a bright pink pen out of the front pouch of her backpack and began to write. 

Alex pulled himself to his feet and walked over to Laurens. Flopping down on the bed next to his friend, Alex groaned. “Why is Angelica so… irritating?”

“What do you mean? She was being really nice to you! Usually anyone who tries to help her gets every single idea they have cut down. I’ve seen her make a couple of people cry.” He looked pointedly at Lafayette who mumbled something in French.

“Huh.”

John nodded solemnly. “But that’s probably just because she doesn’t know you. You’ll see the other side of her soon.”

“... That could go two ways. You’re saying she’ll be nicer?”

“Not necessarily. And who knows? Maybe she likes you.” 

Alex sat up, turning to face John. “Are you kidding me? Did you see-” He was cut off when an open bag of potato chips flew across the room and hit him in the face. 

“Oops!” Peggy cried. “I just wanted to make sure you felt  _ included _ .” She hopped up on the bed and grabbed the bag, shoving a handful in her mouth as she left, dropping crumbs everywhere (including down Alex’s shirt - that would haunt him for years) and jumped back off the bed, accidentally stepping on Hercules’ fingers on her way back to the corner where she was “working.”

Alex blinked twice. “One question, John: Why did you think I would be ‘an asset to the study group’?”

John hesitated for a second before replying, “I’m not really sure. You look smart, and I, as well as most of the other people here, like you.”

“Should I be worried that they like me?”

“Yes. Very much so.” He added the next part in a whisper: “I think Angelica might like you a little more than the rest of us.” Alex sat up to see John wearing a stupid grin. 

“Shut up.”

John shrugged. “Suit yourself. So, we don’t have much homework in science today - which is absolutely  _ incredible  _ \- but you do need to catch up on the classwork. So,” he said, taking out a thick wad of papers, “this is what we did today.”

“That much in one day?” Alex wondered.

“No, half of this is stuff I should have recycled a long time ago. But yeah, we usually do a lot. That is to say, she  _ assigns  _ a lot.” John shuffled through his stack of papers, pulling a few pages out and letting the rest drop to the floor. “We’re ‘learning’ about genetics. So, we read an article about it and watched a video which did  _ nothing _ to explain it.” Finding the one piece of graphite-smudged notebook paper, John handed it to Alex, saying, “You should read through these. It’s the notes I took on the stuff we read in class.” He looked at Alex and asked, “By the way, do you know what your schedule is yet?” 

“Um,” Alex began, “it might be in the huge stack of papers that Mr. Merridew gave me.”

“You should probably find that then. You won’t be shadowing Burr anymore, so you should know what classes to go to tomorrow. And we can see what classes you have with the rest of us. By the way, his name is Ralph, not Mr. Merridew. He doesn’t deserve your respect.”

Alex nodded. “Right. So, let’s see…” He pulled his backpack closer and reached into the front pocket where he had stashed the papers. . “Terms of Use - what’s that, isn’t it for websites? - Student Code of Conduct, Rules and Regulations, Customs and Courtesies - do those even exist in Orchard Grove? - and my schedule, finally.” Alex pulled it out and looked over the classes before handing it to John.

“Oh, nice! We have math and science together! They’re both pretty horrible classes, but they might be better with you there.”

“Oh, I hope so. Science is one of the seven horrors of the world.”

“And math is probably eighth. But hey, what did you expect when you moved here?” He paused, rethinking his question. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t get it. Why do you guys still go to this school? It’s awful! It’s not like you can’t move or switch schools or  _ something _ ! I mean, look at this house! The Schuylers have money and could all attend boarding school. Why don’t they do anything?”

“Because the administrators and teachers don’t care and our parents don’t believe that it’s as bad as we say it is. And we usually leave out all the gory details when talking to parents. Also, we like being around each other.”

Alex nodded skeptically. “I don’t see that as reason to stay, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Besides, two years are gone; we just have a half to go! The rest of the year shouldn’t be too bad anyway - not worse, at least.” Alex wasn’t so sure. He had learned that it could always,  _ always _ be worse.

“Anyway, do you know how to use a Punnett square?”

Alex smirked. “I think a better question is: Does Mrs. K?” 

John chuckled. “Well, no. But don’t tell her I said that or say that to her face - she’ll kill you.”

“I can actually see that happening. But yeah, I know how to  _ properly  _ use a Punnett square.”

“Well, get ready to unlearn that. So basically Mrs. K-”

“John.” Alex and John looked up to see Peggy standing over them. “You owe me twenty bucks.” She put her hand out as if she expected the money.

“Do I have to pay in cash, or can I pay in chips?”

“Cash.”

“But I don’t have any on me right now.”

Peggy crossed her arms. “You live literally three houses down. GET SOME!” She stormed away.

John turned to look at Alex and laughed at his expression. “She’ll be okay if I bring it tomorrow.”

“I HEARD THAT!” Peggy screamed from across the room. Alex flinched.

“Why do you owe her?” he asked.

“She does our Compass homework for us. The fees are a little high, but instead of wasting hours of our lives on the worthless work assigned to us, Peggy does it all. She usually works on several people’s at once, thus getting it done even faster. Five whole dollars per lesson is a lot, but honestly, it’s better than actually doing it. And the teacher doesn’t care anyways.”

“Oh.” Alex looked over to Peggy in the corner. She had about seven laptops facing her, six with screens sporting a logo reading “Compass Learning.” The last one, which was yellow and covered with stickers, was the one Peggy was the most engrossed in, playing a random show on Netflix. Snacks covered the floor, bags of chips, candy, and a pile of pretzels that had been removed from their packaging. Peggy crunched on whatever was closest to her, grabbing handfuls from the food one after another, sometimes even mixing them together. Alex wondered just how quality her services were, but clearly no one bothered to ask.

“Okay, so, as I was saying, Mrs. K doesn’t know what Punnett squares are. For one, she thinks ‘homozygous’ and ‘homogenous’ are synonyms.”

“Her class just seems like a mess.”

John let out a bark of laughter. “It really is. We had a kid ask yesterday if ‘homozygous’ was the gene that made you gay.”

Alex facepalmed. “Great. So, I have to go to school with a bunch of buffoons. And the teachers are no exception.”

“Yeah. Most of them are idiots.”

Alex sighed. “Why did we have to move here? Of all places, this seems like the worst choice we could have made.”

John set a hand on his shoulder in sympathy. “I mean, at least you have friends right off the bat. I was stuck alone for the first four months.”

“Really? You just moved here this year?”

“No, it was last year. And in the middle of the year.”

Alex nodded. “That’s harsh. Also, I have to ask: Is this normally how the study group acts? I mean, it’s entertaining and all, but I’m not sure I really fit here.”

“The thing is, we don’t really study. We formed this group to spend more time around each other and also make our parents think that we’re productive human beings. Today isn’t that bad actually. Only Peggy is watching Netflix, and no one has destroyed anything yet. Though, to be honest, it’s probably just because we’re in Angelica’s room. Speaking of which, Angelica hasn’t physically hurt anyone yet. Laf has been well-behaved since she whacked him upside the head with a broom last time he pretended to make out with the floor.”

Alex was minorly stunned, but, by this point, he was getting used to it. “He’s done that… before?”

“Yeah, but that time he  _ actually  _ made out with the floor.” 

“Are you sure he’s okay?” 

“Nah, we know he isn’t. I think he got dropped on his head as a child.” 

“Actually,” Hercules butted in, “he dove into the pool in the shallow end and got a concussion. That was last year, and we’re not sure what happened before that.”

“Je l'ai fait sur un défi!”** Lafayette exclaimed.

“A dare you gave yourself, if I remember correctly,” Hercules retorted.

“Néanmoins, un défi.”***

“All right, you two, calm down,” Eliza said, “we all have our differences, and there’s no use dwelling on the past.”

“Except for the fact that he’s even weirder now.” Hercules crossed his arms. 

“It’s probably just the outrageous amount of Cheetos he consumes. Those things will probably kill him one day,” Angelica added. In response, Laf shoveled a large handful of the possibly deadly snacks into his mouth. 

“By the way, Alex, I finished the outline of my essay. I expect you to proofread it.” She tossed a paper into his lap.

Alex looked at the outline that she had dumped in his lap. “I still can’t read this,” he called after her.

“I can help.” John reached over to grab the paper. “I’ve learned to read her handwriting by this point - it’s a life skill.” He smiled, and Alex relinquished the cursive mess. 

“Thanks.”

“Any time.” Looking down at the paper, John began to read. “‘Introduction: The way that the farm practices law and order *Law and order SVU noise.* Paragraph oink: How the death of the bees will trigger the apocalypse. Paragraph two: Random things I saw on the internet three days ago, including that one meme that is actually relevant to what we’re learning in Social Studies. Paragraph tree: Insert song lyrics that fit your current mood here. Conclusion: Alex is a weirdo and I caught Lafayette picking his nose last week.’ Wow… she’s usually kind of random, but this is new. I’ve never seen her do this before. She either really likes or really hates you, and to be honest, I can’t tell anymore.”

Alex sighed. “I felt like Angelica had potential as a student, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Oh, she does. She’s incredible and won a few competitions for her SAT scores - don’t ask why she took that test in sixth grade - but she doesn’t really care about grades.”

“I can see why,” Alex muttered.

“Hey guys!” Hercules’ voice rose over the noise of Peggy’s headphones being pulled out of her computer and revealing she was listening to “YMCA,” the general din of people talking, and the crunch of chips. “Laf’s in the school newspaper!” He flattened out the single sheet of paper. “It says here, ‘Eighth grade boy caught lurking on top of Lockers:  Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, a eighth grade student at Orchard Grove, has been discovered hiding on top of the lockers 8A pod and hurling pieces of paper at people. His response to our accusations is “ Je veux le divorce!”****’ Wow Laf, who would have guessed that you would be famous?” 

“Not me,” Angelica muttered. “Famous for attempting to hit people in the eyeballs with paper airplanes, sure, or driving while under the influence of candy, sleep deprivation, blood thirst, and alcohol, I can see. Arrested for being a zombie or vampire? I’ll testify for that. Knocking all of the shelves over in Costco? Why not? But famous for something as minor as hiding on the top of lockers? There are bigger stories to cover.”

“Like what, your most recent murder charge?”

Angelica glared at her sister. “Shut up, Peggy. That was  _ once _ . And it was only a third-degree charge! Plus, I didn’t actually kill that guy - I just found his body by falling on top of it and getting his blood everywhere! Have you ever fallen on a corpse? No! So you have no right to say that his blood didn’t just start gushing everywhere. And, seriously, have you ever tried to remove blood stains from your hair?”

Alex, now mildly curious, turned to John. “Nope. You really don’t want to know,” John said, cutting Alex off before he could even ask. 

“There’s a school newspaper?” Alex asked. “Is it any good?”

John turned to him, surprised. “Why would you care about the  _ school newspaper _ ?”

“I don’t know. I just thought maybe they would want another writer. I’m pretty good, if I do say so myself.”

Angelica scoffed. “If you’re so good at writing, why are you interested in joining the  _ Orchard Grove _ school newspaper?”

“Maybe I could improve it?”

“There’s nothing that can be done for the newspaper at the moment,” Hercules said. “If you want to fix it, the best idea would be to just scrap it and start over.” 

Alex assumed he had meant that it would be a waste of Alex’s time, but it had given him an idea. “What if we did just restart it? Create a name, and start publishing new copies. If we put some effort into it, we could probably overtake the current writers very quickly.” 

Eliza nodded vigorously. “That sounds like an interesting idea, Alex! Why don’t we?”

“It could work,” John added. “We could all take up a role and each write different parts individually.”

Angelica crossed her arms. “Great idea, Alex,” she drawled sarcastically. “I don’t like it. None of us have the time for this, and it’s not like-”

“Angelica, you realize that we don’t actually do anything, right? Almost none of us do extracurriculars, the homework load is large but easily completed, especially if we do each other’s, and do we really care about homework anyway? I mean, we just sit around and talk during the group meet-ups, and this was created as a designated time to do school work. So honestly, your argument’s invalid,” James said. He seemed to be a voice of reason in the group of friends. 

The entire room seemed to be holding its breath. No one had ever stood up to Angelica so plainly before. Angelica stared at James for ten whole seconds before someone broke the silence.

“Angelica, why don’t you be the editor? I know you love tearing people’s work apart, so it seems like your kind of job,” Eliza offered.

“And you could run the gossip column!” Peggy added. “I know you love spreading rumors and keeping the public informed of others’ misdoings.”

Angelica had lost the look that promised certain death to whoever spoke next and seemed to be warming up to the idea. She seemed like an entirely different person.

“We can take more of the writing parts,” John said. “I know that you don’t really like writing-”

Angelica cut him off. “Actually, I’m willing to take this challenge on. But, I’m editor and sole author of the gossip column, clear?” She glared around the room, daring anyone to protest.

Alex couldn’t help the smile on his face. Angelica liked  _ his  _ idea? “It’s a deal.” 

“Alright,” she said, cracking her knuckles and sweeping her gaze across the room, “we may as well get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations:  
> * I am sorry, ma’am!  
> ** I did it on a dare!  
> *** Nevertheless, a dare.  
> **** I want a divorce!


	5. Alex vs. Angelica's Broom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the crippling boots of despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations:  
> Un Étude de Oreos = A Study of Oreos

The study group was spread across Angelica’s bedroom, all writing an article for the newspaper that Alex was proud to say he had devised. They had divided the work, each person taking charge of one type of article or column. Despite Alex’s protests, the entire group was writing on notebook paper. Each story, article, and column was hand-written, and because Angelica’s writing was illegible, they had decided that each time they wrote, a different person would be assigned to transcribe her work. It was Eliza’s turn today, because considering that they had formed the newspaper about ten minutes ago, no one had submitted anything for the advice column, which was Eliza’s responsibility. She was also not completely fed-up with the eldest Schuyler's antics at the moment. And, usually, Angelica was calmer around Eliza than she was around anyone else.

Alex was walking around the room, answering questions and attempting to read Lafayette’s French article called “Un Étude de Oreos,” as well as helping the other members write their parts.

Just as he was rounding to the bed to see John once again, he ran right into Angelica. 

“Watch where you’re going, Alex,” she muttered. Turning away from him, she addressed the whole group: “People!” She clapped her hands together a couple of times to get everyone’s attention. “It’s 4:30, which means it’s time for all of you to leave here. However, you’re not taking _one_ step out of this room until it is _cleaner_ than you found it.”

There was a collective groan from the study group, but no one voiced any complaints. There was a rush to the trash can as everyone (Lafayette especially) went to throw away their snack and candy wrappers. Alex watched this mess in awe. It was rare to see middle schoolers _voluntarily_ pick up after themselves. Yet here were some of the messiest people he had ever observed, cleaning quickly and without complaint. That was when he noticed Angelica’s footwear.

“When did you put those shoes on, Angelica?” he asked, staring at the shiny high-heeled boots. 

“Why,” she asked, edging closer to Alex, her boots clicking on the hardwood floor, “are you not cleaning?” Angelica’s voice had taken on a dangerous tone, her eyes narrowed.

Alex swallowed. Angelica was even more intimidating than she had been previously. “I didn’t make any of this mess.”

Angelica smirked. “ _I don’t care_ ,” she responded, separating every syllable. Angelica pulled the broom standing up against the wall into her grasp. Alex stepped backwards, only to find that he had been cornered against the wall by Angelica, who was now several inches taller than him and holding her broom in a threatening manner.

“Are you going to sweep the floor?” he asked, his voice rising an octave. “I thought you said we-”

“I,” Angelica announced, “am going to sweep your feet out from underneath you if you don’t get to work.” She took another small step towards Alex, almost closing the gap between them. She placed the broom’s handle under his chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “So start cleaning,” she intoned, her voice low and menacing. For as slowly as she had pinned him against the wall, Angelica left in a flash. She was just suddenly gone, and Alex was able to breathe again.

John waved at him from the floor, where he was picking up excess candy wrappers and some of Peggy’s pretzels. Alex joined him after a minute.

“Were those boots…”

“The crippling boots of despair? The boots that will crush your dreams beneath their soles while you watch and cry? Yes.”

Alex nodded, and a comfortable silence fell between the two boys. After they had deposited the bits of food that were collected off the floor, Angelica announced that they were free to go. The group packed up their papers and notebooks and walked down the stairs in single file with Angelica marching behind them with a broom. They said their goodbyes, and all left in their separate directions, only John and Alex heading to the left of the Schulyer house.

“Where do you live?” John asked.

“The house with the bright blue shutters down this way.”

“Oh.” John grimaced but covered it with a smile, “You live right across from me.” 

“Oh,” Alex responded. “Cool.” They walked in silence for a moment. “What was that face about?” he asked John, not having missed the awkward cover up. 

“Well… There are theories that your house is haunted, and it’s been the home of some criminal activity over the years. Also the original burned down. And some guy might have been murdered there a couple decades ago.”

“My brother’s not exactly the most... perceptive house-buyer. We’ve lived in a couple of really weird places before. In our last house, there was a door in the basement that was locked from the other side, and there wasn’t any way to get in. Plus we heard some weird noises in there, and that’s partially why we moved. There was one apartment building that was probably run by a cult. So this house probably isn’t going to be the worst place I’ve stayed.”  
“If you need anything, just come over some time,” John offered. 

“Thanks, I’ll probably take you up on that sometime. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye!” The two boys went their separate ways, John to the comfortable-looking house across the street, Alex towards his supposedly haunted new house, with the peeling blue shutters. He sighed. This was going to be interesting. 

Walking in the door, Alex was greeted by the scent of something burning and his brother’s yells from the kitchen. 

“James?” he called out.

“Hey kid!” He seemed to be fumbling with the fire alarm, which was now beeping. “I’m in the kitchen!” 

“I could tell.”

Alex walked through the hallway that led to the kitchen. “Do you need any help with that?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Alex slung his backpack over the back of a chair and peered over his brother’s shoulder to see a charred and still smoking potato in a bowl. “How was your first day, Allie?” 

“Did you set a potato on fire?” 

“Yeah, but the microwave is fine. It still works, I checked.”

Alex took a small step back. “You set fire to a potato... in the _microwave_?”

“Yep!” his brother said cheerfully. “So, you have any new friends?”

“Yeah.” Alex sat down at the small table in the kitchen and was quickly joined by his older brother. “I somehow acquired a whole group of friends and a girl who might hate me and might really like me but no one can tell.” Pulling an apple out of the bag that was set on the table (fruit baskets were unnecessary when you could just put the fruit on the table in the bag you bought it in) and, biting it, he kicked his shoes off and tucked his feet up underneath him. “Are you seriously going to eat that, James?”

“Of course! Why waste a perfectly good potato?” James took a large bite of the (still smoking) potato. “You eat marshmallows once they go up in flames.” 

“That’s a whole different story - marshmallows are better charred. And that thing probably isn’t even safe to eat anymore; nothing is once _you’ve_ touched it.”

James laughed. “What can I say? I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“Sometimes I really don’t know how.” Taking the final bite of his apple, Alex placed the core in the already-overflowing compost bowl and yelled back to his brother, “I’m going upstairs.” 

“You sure you don’t want some potato?” 

“ _Yes_.”


	6. Alex vs. Mac 'n' Cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puns, SpongeBillyBob, flirting, turtles, sour-cream-and-onion-flavored chips, more flirting, AND PEGGY.  
> Or: John asks Alex to dinner, and Alex displays his flirting skills - but not to him.  
> P.S. Brace yourself. This chapter's extremely long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fanfic, John Laurens' parents are Eleanor and Ana Laurens. When they were married, Eleanor took Ana's last name.

“I can’t believe that he cried  _ again _ !”

“Just get used to it; this is common. He comes close to crying everyday, and at least twice a week he actually does. It’s sad but really funny.” 

“You know, my computer apps class was better than I expected,” Alex said. “Mr. Greene doesn’t make us do a lot, and I think he just sat there and played solitaire the whole time.” 

“That would be Mr. Greene,” Hercules said. “You know, I have him for math, and he just has us do our work, but we can listen to music and then play games when we get done.”

“I have him for math too,” Alex said. “It’s quite refreshing compared to Mrs. K.”

“Honestly, it’s great that we have teachers like him, because while we do actually do some work, we also get to relax and occasionally have fun,” Herc noted.

“So Alex.” John had appeared next to him, arms laden with books. “Did you enjoy the rest of your classes?”

Alex almost laughed. “They were terrible, as to be expected from this school. As you know, I got sent out in Mrs. K’s class  _ again _ , and couldn't find the room I was supposed to go to. I ended up just sitting in the hallway, reading until the bell rang.”

“That happens. I think we’ve all had that experience before,” John sympathized.

“Yeah, Peggy was kicked out of Mrs. K’s class entirely.”

“How does that work? And how do I do it?” Alex asked. 

“I wish we could get out of her class, but we’d probably have to repeat it next year. And honestly, I don’t think that they’re supposed to remove you, but Peggy was such a ‘disturbing presence’ that Mrs. K just couldn’t take it anymore,” John replied. “But no matter - five months gone, four and a half to go!”

“Is it really that long?” Alex groaned. “I don’t know if I can make it through a week of this, let alone four months.”

“Four and a  _ half _ , actually.” Peggy disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. 

“Is she always like that?” Alex asked, slightly concerned and more than a little worried for his safety while sleeping. 

“I think you know the answer, Alex.”

“How do you deal with her?” he wondered, not knowing how the whole group was still sane. 

“We just kind of do...she grows on you.”

“Like Angelica? And Laf?”

John laughed. “Yeah, they’re all really cool people on the inside… for some, it’s very deep down, though.” 

“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Alex responded.

“Then don’t.” John said. “What are you up to tonight?” 

“Not much,” Alex said, “probably just homework and as much YouTube as I can fit in between assignments. Whose house are we working at today?”

“Hercules’.”

“On this route, is there any crawling under hedges through soggy snow involved? I don’t need more of that.”

“Oh, cheer up, Alex. It’s starting to thaw,” Hercules added.

Alex blinked. “ _ This _ is warm to you? It’s freezing out here - literally  _ below _ 32 ° F - and you say this is ‘starting to thaw’?”

Hercules grinned. “Yeah, it’s actually  _ near _ 32 ° \- last week it got below zero again.”

“James!” Alex cursed, wondering why his brother made him live in such a cold, miserable climate.

“At least you don’t live in the middle of nowhere in northern Canada, because we went there to see my mom’s friend once in December, and I saw more snow and moose than anyone needs in a lifetime,” John added. 

“It’s just another thing you’re going to have to get used to. John’s from South Carolina, and he’s fine up here.”

“Mostly because the move was ten years ago.”

“But you did get used to it.”

“I was three, and snow was the best thing I had ever seen. I remember thinking it was warm and fluffy.”

“Snow is gross,” Alex added.

“Oh, but the slush it makes in Spring is worse,” Lafayette added.

“Yeah. It likes to get in boots, even the ‘waterproof’ ones.” Hercules laughed.

“That,” Alex said, “is disgusting. Let’s talk about something else.”

“There is  _ snow _ way they’ll do that,” Peggy assured him.

“Yeah, you’ve sure got yourself  _ stuck _ , if you catch my  _ drift _ .” Lafayette added. 

“Oh,  _ slush _ ,” John said to the other boys. Turning back to Alex, he said, “I’m sure you’ll adjust fine.”

“What do you mean John?” Hercules was struggling to not burst out in laughter. “I’m sure he  _ gloves _ our puns!”

The whole group dissolved into laughter until Angelica shouted, “Stop laughing your  _ sleds  _ off and keep mov-” Before she could finish, a snowball sailed straight into her face. Angelica’s scream of rage was one that Alex would never forget. “Oh, you will pay for that, Lafayette!” The boy in question wisely started running, but her was quickly overtaken by Angelica. She shoved him face first into a snowbank before dropping to her knees and grinding his face into the powdery white fluff. 

“Angelica,” Eliza’s voice took on a scolding tone, “he’s gotten what he deserves;  _ icy _ no reason for this torture to continue. Now leave Laf alone.  _ Chill _ , Angelica, please.” Face still molded into a mask of murderous rage, Angelica stood up, whacking her knees with a glove to remove the packed-on snow. It fell off, revealing wet patches on her jeans. 

“Guys, can you cool it with the puns please?” James exclaimed, clearly frustrated with the amount of wordplay passing around the group.

Everybody, excluding James, of course, burst into laughter. He glanced around in bewilderment before Thomas nudged him. “You just made a pun.” He still looked confused. “You said, ‘ _ cool _ it with the puns.’ Get it?” James just shrugged, still not knowing what was happening. More laughter ensued.

Alex grinned. “Are they always this punny?” he asked John. 

“Oh, yeah,” the other boy responded, “they never stop, and it annoys James to no end.”

Alex laughed. “I think I could get used to that. I’m  _ chill  _ with puns.”

John laughed, bumping his shoulder against Alex’s. “Good one.”

“This has been  _ ice _ , but I think we should move on before James flips out,” Hercules said, glancing back at the people trailing behind them. “Or Angelica murders someone.”

“Yes,  _ freeze _ ,” Eliza seconded, glancing nervously at Angelica’s face. “We’d better get to Herc’s house before someone gets frostbite. Peggy refused to wear gloves or a coat again, and my shoes are about soaked through.”

Alex, used to the warm weather in the Carribean and only wearing six sweaters, added, “That sounds good to me. My brother has been too busy  _ flaking  _ out around the house to take me shopping yet. And I’m concerned about Angelica’s  _ frosty _ expression.” After a moment, he added, directly to her, “ _ Freeze _ don’t  _ chill _ me.” 

Angelica made a strange face, seeming to be trying to contain a smile and only succeeding a little, turning her face into a grimace. She turned swiftly and started marching away.

The rest of the group followed her, but John didn’t seem to move. Alex said, “John, what’s wrong?”

John’s mouth was hanging open. “She - She almost  _ smiled _ at you.”

Alex blinked. “Does she not usually do that?”

“No!” John whisper-screamed, “She doesn’t! She usually only smiles at her sister Eliza. She likes you, Alex; you can’t deny it anymore! You should try and flirt with her or something!”

“No!” Alex said, a little too loudly and quickly. “She scares me,” he admitted.

“She scares everyone; that’s just what Angelica does. But did you see the way she’s been acting? I mean, the way she pinned you against the wall with the broom yesterday got to the point where we were all about to start chanting ‘kiss him!’” 

Alex’s felt his face heat up. “Were you really?”

John nodded vigorously. “Yes, we were! You seriously don’t see this? Do you not like her? Don’t tell me you don’t like her. We have to match you up!”

“Please don’t.”

“But why?” John asked. “You two are  _ perfect  _ for each other!”

“I’m pretty sure she tried to kill me with that glare yesterday, and honestly, she _ pinned me against a wall _ . With a  _ broom _ . Angelica terrifies me, okay? So don’t even think about matching us up.”

“Do you like her though? Really?”

Alex searched for an excuse not to answer, and he looked around. “Where’s Hercules’ house? Everyone’s gone.”

“You’re avoiding the question, Alex.”

“I don’t know what you mean, John. I’m not avoiding anything. Now, honestly, where did everyone else go?”

“They probably took the shortcut. Meaning they’re already at Herc’s house and have eaten everything.” He frowned.

“Then we have to go there before they eat the last crumbs!”

“It’s this way.” John dropped to his knees and crawled under a bush. Alex groaned, remembering everyone’s promise of no more bushes, and reluctantly followed his friend. 

They trekked through a muddy (and snowy) path through the trees before ending up in the wrong backyard. Several fences were climbed, one cat was returned to its owner, and, all in all, it took twenty minutes to reach Hercules’ house, and Alex managed to avoid all of John’s questions about Angelica, though it took some effort and many,  _ many _ mentions of food.

“What took you guys so long?” Eliza asked as John and Alex removed their coats and boots. “The boys already inhaled all the snacks - sorry, John.” Someone appeared behind Eliza in the doorway.

“You guys look soaked! Come on in, both of you,” the woman said. “You must be Alex?” she asked as they dropped their coats in the pile that resided in the front hallway. Alex nodded. “I’m Hercules’ mom, but you can call me Sarah.”

“Did they already eat everything?” John asked. 

“Not  _ every _ thing; I saw that some uneaten food up in Herc’s room, but you’ll want to move fast.”

“Thanks!” John said, pulling his boot off and racing to the stairs. Alex followed, not wanting to get left behind.

When the two of them reached Herc’s room, they saw total chaos. And, in the center of it all, Angelica stood, broom in hand. “Hey!” she screeched. “Give me that Cheeto!” 

“Never!” Peggy screamed, bouncing off the bed and onto the fluffy rug, dropping into a roll while shoving the orange snack into her mouth.

“Oh, you will give me that whole bag and buy me two more! Eliza! Code orange!”

“Calm down, Angelica.” Eliza stood up, grabbed the bag of Cheetos from Peggy and handed it to Angelica. “Are you satisfied?”

“I will  _ never _ be satisfied, and you know it!”

Eliza sighed. “I meant with the Cheeto situation.”

“Oh. Kind of. There were only three left when you took it-” Alex’s ears rang from a sudden scream of rage from Angelica, yelling something about the number of Cheetos a person could consume and her sister. Peggy had settled back into her corner, where four laptops were set up, facing her. 

“Here!” Alex got hit with a dry-erase marker. “Write down your assignments on the board.” Eliza rummaged around in her bag, producing another marker which she tossed to John. The two boys made their way to the already almost completely covered whiteboard, and each attempted to squeeze their assignments into the remaining space. Of course, the marker was an unfavorable shade of brown, but neither boy minded.

Behind them, Angelica watched their movements with a careful eye. John, of course, took note of this. “She’s right behind you, Alex. Say hi or something.”

“Are you serious, John?” Alex whispered back. “Also, can you help me with my science work? Mrs. K really made it impossible this time. I can do Punnett squares, but SpongeBillyBob I am completely at a loss over.”

John smiled warmly, all mentions of Angelica forgotten - for the moment. “Sure. We’ll figure it out together. Most of this I don’t understand either. But first… Do you like barbecue-flavored chips?”

Alex frowned. “Not particularly. Why?”

“Because they’re the only snacks left. Seriously, they couldn’t leave us at least some ranch-flavored Doritos?”

“I suppose not. But hey, how about we try to do those worksheets?” Alex pulled his science homework out of his binder. The title was  _ Bikini Bottom Genetics _ . From that point on, Alex knew that this would be a disaster. John pulled his worksheet out too and laid it out on the floor next to Alex’s.

“So apparently,” Alex summarized after they both finished reading the first question, “we’re supposed to figure out what the probabilities for fish skin color are if SpongeWillow and SpongeWill had kids.”

“Great,” John droned sarcastically. “I care so much about these starfishes and their kids.”

Alex grimaced. “Well, I think they’re sea sponges, and I don’t understand how that even works - that they can walk and talk and whatever - and how do they reproduce? I mean, they reproduce asexually, and there aren’t specified male and female sexes, so I don’t-”

“Don’t ask for specifics,” John cut in. “It just makes this worse.”

“You’re right,” Alex agreed. “Still, my point remains. This doesn’t make sense.”

John raised his eyebrows. “You’re just going to have to get used to it.”

They finished the rest of the worksheet with limited discussion - the worksheet was extremely easy anyway, once you turned off your critical thinking - and hoped their answers appealed to Mrs. K’s grading procedure - or, rather, random-lottery-whatever-mood-she’s-in-determines-the-outcome grading system, as John described it.

“Do we have any other homework in science?” Alex asked.

“No, only Khan Academy assignments. It’s based on the amount of time you spend on the website, not whether you’re listening or not. Just let the video play and mute the tab. Works every time. 30 minutes a week, though she checks it only periodically. I do mine in math.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah, it’s common knowledge at this point. And Mrs. K doesn’t really care. Oh, by the way, do you want to come over to my house for dinner tonight?”

Alex bit his lip. “I’d love to, really; my brother is a  _ horrible  _ cook. But, he said he was going to make something special tonight, and I don’t want to back out on my promise to him.”

Alex swore John looked disappointed, but the look was quickly covered by a compassionate smile. “Yeah, of course. Maybe another time.”

“Hey, John,” a voice shouted. It was Peggy. “I need my money. I’ve done your Compass for two weeks now. I need my dough.”

“Uh, hi Peggy. I think I have it here -” he made a show of searching through his pockets, looking for a wallet that wasn’t there. “I must have left it at home. Sorry, Peggy.”

Peggy was fuming. “No ‘sorry’ will suffice, John Llewelln Laurens!”

Alex had to stifle a chuckle. “That’s your middle name, John?”

John blushed slightly. “Yeah, it wasn’t my choice. When your mom is really excited about her first son, she doesn’t think about the consequences of your middle name.”

“I’m LISTENING,” Peggy reminded him.

“Of course, Pegs. Can I pay it tomorrow?”

“NO! Today, right now. No exceptions or excuses. I’ve had enough of this nonsense!” She held out her hand.

John sighed. “It’s at my house. I’ll go get it.” He stood, making his way towards the door. He turned back to Alex and whispered, “You could go talk with Angelica.” He nodded meaningfully at the girl in question, who was chatting with Thomas.

“No way, John,” he responded defensively.

John just shrugged and headed for the door. Alex turned away and looked through the rest of his binder. Concluding there was no homework left, he scooted over to the wall and slumped against it, taking out a notebook and a piece of scrap paper and started planning his newspaper article.

Before he had much on the page, Eliza came up and sat next to him. “How are you holding up in Orchard Grove?”

Alex smiled grimly. “It was worse than I expected.” 

She nodded in understanding. “I trust you’ll be able to make it. Besides, you have us. Everyone here in the study group is glad you’re here. Some of us may not show it very emphatically, but we’re all here to help you. If you need anything, just ask. You seem like a tough kid, Alex. I know you can handle the rest of the year. But that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t ask for help. I’m here.” She set a hand on his arm. “We’re all here, Alex.”

Alex nodded. “Thanks, Eliza.”

“Sure.” She looked at him for a minute quizzically. “Is something bothering you?”

Alex sighed. “It’s just - I want to say thank you. You’re one of the only voices of sanity in this group, and I really admire you for it. Your ability to stay calm under stress, your undying loyalty to your sisters, your kindness and support… We need more people like you in the world. Thank you.”

Eliza smiled slightly, blushing. “Alex… I really appreciate that. I really appreciate you. Know that the rest of us do too.”

Squeezing her hand, Alex added, “But the person they should really be appreciating is  _ you _ .”

Eliza looked away, flustered. She took a lock of dark hair and twirled it around her finger. “You flatter me.”

“It is a most noble deed,” Alex intoned sagely.

“You flatter yourself,” Eliza laughed.

He tilted his head in thought. “That is also a noble deed.”

“Oh, hush,” Eliza ordered, but she was smiling.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, caught in simple verbal signs of affection. Something melted inside of Alex; he felt warm for once, comfortable to be beside Eliza, a caring person he didn’t have to run from. Something about her was calming, grounding. It was therapeutic to sit next to her, their shoulders nearly touching.

“Okay, Peggy, I have your money.” The sound of John’s voice, and Peggy subsequently knocking over her chair, broke their eye contact. When Alex turned back to look at her, Eliza was smiling warmly. She gave Alex’s hand a light squeeze. “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always here.” Alex was unable to answer as Eliza stood and went over to where James was sitting, afraid he’d call her back.

John plopped down onto the floor next to Alex with a tired sigh. “Peggy is exhausting.” Alex gave a non-committal nod. “I had to run all the way home, and when I got there, my moms made me try on some new shorts - like, five pairs - and taste the soup.” He drew in a breath. “They asked about you, you know.”

Alex was startled out of his thoughts. “What did they say?”

“They were disappointed that you couldn’t come, and they hope it’ll work out next time.”

_ Next time? _ Alex thought, surprised.  _ There’ll be a  _ next time _?  _ He’d never had friends long enough for them to invite him to dinner, much less given him the freedom to imagine a  _ next time _ . A  _ future _ . Stability. Security. Possibility. As much as he hated Orchard Grove, he couldn’t deny the knot that loosened inside him when he heard those words. They  _ cared _ . About  _ him _ .

Alex felt his face warm along with his heart. “I hope it’ll work out someday, too.” Without thinking, he leaned closer to John, their shoulders pressing against each other. John was tense at first but soon relaxed into the touch. “Thank you.”

“For what, Alex?”

“For being my friend.”

John laughed under his breath. “How could I not?”

Alex’s wanted to respond. He could think of more than a few reasons John wouldn’t want to be his friend. But he found he couldn’t answer. Instead, he just nodded.

“How’s your newspaper article going?” John asked, breaking the silence.

Grateful for the excuse, Alex shifted and grabbed his backpack, pulling out the article he’d been working on throughout the day. “Well,” he began, his voice working now, “I thought about roasting some of my teachers and calling for rebellion, but I decided I didn’t want to start that  _ just _ yet - I’ll work up to that. So I’m writing a frank, concise, brutally honest account of what happens in band. Sometimes, the most powerful writing is just a list of complaints; I’m taking a hint from Martin Luther.”

John’s face hardened. “That probably won’t do much in the eyes of the administrators - I’ve tried many-a-time before to email them into submission. Perhaps a petition would help.”

Alex shrugged. He didn’t really care what happened after he wrote the article; he just wanted to stir up the crowd. He couldn’t be the only one seeing the destruction caused by Orchard Grove’s policies. “What are you going to write?”

John brightened. “I saw in the news today that a project has been launched to study wild alligator snapping turtles in Missouri. So, I did some research, and here’s my result.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a page of hand-written text titled “The Turtle’s Terrible Trouble (Part 1).”

“Is there going to be a part two?” Alex inquired.

John shrugged. “Probably not. But it makes it sound cooler.” Alex was skeptical, but he didn’t remark on it.

“Hey guys,” Angelica’s voice cut in. “Do you have your articles finished? I’m gonna edit them tonight.”

“Yeah, here.” John handed her his article, nudging Alex meaningfully.

“I haven’t finished mine yet,” Alex admitted, flinching away from Angelica’s expression. “I wanted to think it through before writing it,” he finished quickly.

“I see.” Angelica pursed her lips. “Give it to me tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

Angelica hesitated briefly before tossing him a bag of sourcream-and-onion chips. “Do me a favor and don’t starve. I need that article of yours before school tomorrow.” Before Alex could respond, she walked away.

John turned to him, excitement dripping from his features, but Alex held up a hand and shushed him. “You can shut up about this, okay?”

John was grinning from ear to ear, but nodded. “Fine, fine. For now. But only because you’re holding food.”

Chuckling, Alex opened the bag and held it out to John, who began to munch on the snacks. “Delicious,” he purred. Alex laughed more genuinely than he had in weeks and scooched closer to John and the chips. They both reached in the bag at the same time. Their hands touched for a moment before John retracted his hand.

“No, you go ahead,” Alex implored, gesturing to the chips.

“No, no, Angelica gave them to  _ you _ .”

“But you deserve them more.”

“But—”

A different voice cut in. “Just eat the dang chips, you two!” Peggy interrupted loudly. Alex and John looked at each other in amusement before continuing to consume the chips like normal people. Alex had no words to describe the warmth he felt in John’s presence, and he didn’t really need to. He just let it happen. Even in a crowded room where kids were screaming and fighting, for the first time, Alex felt relaxed.

And it was a good feeling.

Ten minutes later, Angelica broke up the meeting. Alex and John walked home together, as was becoming a tradition. Alex made his way to his brother’s dilapidated house and pushed open the door. “Hey, James, I’m home!” he called.

“Oh, hey bro. I made mac n’ cheese!” He held up a steaming (or was that smoking?) plate of orange noodles. Unfortunately, the noodles were all stuck together in a hard brick. Alex’s hopefulness dimmed.

“Um, James, I love you, but… That’s not remotely edible.”

“What do you mean? Watch me.” James picked up the mac n’ cheese brick and held it up to his mouth.

“I don’t really want to do that. Actually, my friend invited me to dinner tonight.”

James’ expression shifted, but he seemed to realize something and softened. “I’m only letting you do this because I want you to make friends. Go ahead. Enjoy your dinner, Alex.”

Alex crossed the room and wrapped his arms around his older brother. “Thanks, James.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. Have fun.”

“I will.” Alex was about to leave the house when he realized he wasn’t wearing anything very fancy. He  _ did _ want to make a good first impression on John’s family. Besides, he probably needed to text John before he went knocking on his door.

Heading up to his room, Alex pulled his phone out of his drawer (he didn’t want to bring it to school in case a) it got stolen, b) some teacher gave him detention because of it, or c) someone would realize he only had one contact: James.

He opened the binder Eliza gave him on his first day. He flipped through the pages and found John’s number, then typed it into his phone.  _ John Laurens _ , the contact read. Alex smiled. School sucked, Angelica probably hated him, and his brother couldn’t cook to save his life. But he had John. And that made all of his problems more manageable. He pressed “send a message.”

Am I still allowed to come over for dinner?

My brother burned the pasta

Of course you are!

Mom says it’ll be ready in 10

Thanks so much

See you soon!

Now all he needed to do was find an outfit. Great.

A couple of minutes later, Alex strode out of his house wearing his nicest (and only) dress shirt and a currently unstained pair of pants. He’d brushed his hair and tied it back with his favorite green ribbon. Hopefully, he didn’t look like he was trying too hard.

He took a deep breath before knocking gently but firmly on the wooden door. He heard footsteps inside before John was standing in front of him. John smiled immediately. “I’m so glad you could make it, Alex! Come in, please! Let me take your coat.”

Alex felt his face warm (but only from the warmth of the house, he convinced himself). Just then, a woman came into the room. “You must be Alex. I’m Eleanor, John’s mother.” She held out her hand.

“It’s a pleasure.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine. You live just across the street, right? I’m so glad that house is in use again. Besides, it’s wonderful to have such excellent neighbors.”

“The feeling is mutual, I can assure you.”

Eleanor laughed warmly. “Do come in,” she said, leading him through the house to the dining room. “Have a seat anywhere, dear. I’ll go tell my wife that you’re here.”

After she left, Alex’s eyes roamed around the room. Everything in the house was painted in bright colors that were subtle but uplifting. And everything felt warm and homey, something Alex only felt when he was at someone else’s home, not that it happened often.

“Ah, Alex.  _ Me llamo Ana. Mucho gusto. _ ” This woman had long, dark hair that fell down her shoulders. Her eyes were a bright green.

From his small Spanish vocabulary, Alex knew this meant “My name is Ana. Nice to meet you.” He smiled. “It’s lovely to meet you, too. I was just admiring your house. It’s beautiful.” He paused. “But not as beautiful as its inhabitants.”

Ana gasped appreciatively. John smiled shyly. Eleanor chuckled knowingly. “I see why John likes you.”

Alex felt warm to the core. But it wasn’t oppressive, like it was in the Carribean. It was… nice. He decided he would spend as much time as he could with John’s family.

“We’re having spaghetti tonight,” Eleanor informed him. “John, would you get another place setting for Alex?” John nodded and left the room. Eleanor followed to bring out the food.

“So, what brings you to our humble city?” Ana questioned.

“Well, my brother’s the breadwinner for the two of us—” Alex bit his lip, wondering what Ana’s reaction would be. It wasn’t pity, as he expected. Her face was understanding, and in her eyes, Alex saw that she’d lost her parents, too. “—And he saw that a restaurant around here was hiring. It’s always been his dream to be a cook, but he’s terrible at it.”

Ana smiled knowingly. “You see, when I was  _ una niña _ , I lost both my parents. It was a car accident. I half hated them, you know, for leaving us alone, even if it wasn’t their fault, just because I didn’t know who else to blame. But eventually, I had to live with the fact that they weren’t coming back. I dropped out of high school to take care of my baby brother. I didn’t want to, though. I wanted to have a normal life, go to college, hang out with friends, go on a date. But I knew I had to be there for him, so I left all that behind.” Ana sighed. “I mean to say that you and your brother have each other and only each other. No matter how many fights you have over his cooking or who does the laundry, that won’t change.”

Alex nodded, blinking. “I know.”

“That said, you always have a home here, with us.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Ana’s expression was soft. “You’ll be okay.”

Just then, Eleanor came into the room carrying a pot of noodles. “I think these are perfect.”

By the time Alex got home, it was dark. Not like that was hard to do here in the winter, but it made everything feel different, as if he’d been at John’s for hours. Which he probably had been. Eleanor was kind and appreciated every one of his compliments. Ana was pleasant and energetic. And John, well, he was a perfect blend of his moms. That settled it: Alex loved that family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter we have written. We can't say for certain when the next chapter will be out. It might be a while. Stay tuned, though, because *spoilers* Maria makes an appearance in Chapter 7!


	7. Alex vs. Meddling Teachers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, Maria seduces Alex into telling her that he likes Angelica. Hearts are drawn on the band room whiteboard. John texts Alex in the middle of Mrs. K's class. Typing Master is stupid. Mr. Greene is a concerned teacher and gives Alex *the goods*. Hercules displays his fashion expertise.  
> And we finally learn what the heck Laf and Herc's relationship is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations:  
> Ce parle le quoi? = What is this about?  
> Also FYI Miss Hodgkins is not a Hamilton character or a reference to another fandom. Adri asked her friend what a generic white blonde lady name would be and that's the first thing he came up with. No offense to people who are blonde or white or have the last name of Hodgkins.

The next day, Alex walked to school with the rest of the study group, hanging around John. His first hour was science, which was an _excellent_ way to start his day. Mrs. K was horrible. But, upon entering the class, he found Mrs. K's seat occupied by a kind-looking young blonde. She'd written her name on the board: Miss Hodgkins. Alex took his seat, considerably more relaxed than usual. No matter how bad this substitute turned out to be, she could do no worse than Mrs. K, Alex was sure.

The bell rang a moment later, and everybody sat down in their seats quickly. “Good morning, my name is Miss Hodgkins. Since your regular teacher is out today, I’m filling in. Mrs. K left me some notes. It seems you’re learning about…” she rifled through the papers in her hands, “genetics. In middle school, genetics were my favorite. So, I’m supposed to pass out this worksheet,” she glanced at it, “called ‘Bikini Bottom Genetics 2.’ That looks interesting.”

Alex rolled his eyes internally. Of _course_ there was a part 2. It wasn’t like _one_ part was enough to drive him to insanity. He was about to start working on the disagreeable worksheet when Miss Hodgkins said, “You’re allowed to work in partners of your choosing, and you can move around the room if you want.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Thomas and Angelica look at each other. Thomas then moved over to the seat next to Angelica. The poor kid sitting there before him didn’t even wait for Angelica’s glare before scampering out of the way. Thomas said nothing of the interaction and sat down beside Angelica, who was writing her name on the assignment. Alex looked up as a girl he didn’t know sat down next to him. “Hi,” she said, “I’m Maria. You’re Alex, right?”

Was it just him or did the room suddenly heat up? “You’re right. It’s nice to m-meet you, Maria.” What was _that_? He never stutters.

“Would you be my partner for the worksheet?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Maria sat down next to him and read the first question out loud. It was a good thing she answered it herself because Alex’s thoughts were fuzzy. A few minutes and three questions later, Alex glanced at Angelica again. She and Thomas seemed to be enjoying themselves, and Angelica was… Alex leaned in to get a better look. _Smiling?_

Maria glanced at him knowingly. “Jealous? She’s quite pretty.” Her eyes glinted mischievously, but Alex didn’t notice. He was too busy being surprised that she had talked to him again.

Alex blushed. “N-no, why would I be?” He paused for a moment, cursing his brain’s inability to function when confronted with pretty girls. “But, um, yeah, she is?” Maria’s lips curled into a smirk, and Alex realized that she could see right through him. He looked down. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Nope,” she whispered, “your secret’s safe with me.”

~~

From the amount of times that Alex had heard his name followed by giggles whispered by the students around him, his secret was not, in fact, safe with Maria. The crowded hallways were the perfect place to listen in on the day’s gossip, and usually Alex wouldn’t mind hearing what was going on, but it seemed that _he_ was today’s primary focus. Alex liked attention, but not _this_ type of career-ruining attention. And the worst part was that he _knew_ Angelica didn’t like him back, despite what John said, and the fact that he was entirely aware that Maria was going to spill the beans at the first chance she got (why he told her anyway was beyond Alex, it seemed that he couldn’t think right when flustered) was rubbing salt in a wound. With that one small confession, he’d likely ruined his miniscule chance with Angelica. But that was a question for next hour. Right now, he had to get through computer applications.

As per usual, Alex dropped his stuff on the desk and turned on his computer. The kid next to him sat down a minute later. “Hey, Alex,” he whispered, “is it true that you have a crush on Angelica?”

Alex sighed. “Why is it such news? Honestly, who _wouldn’t_ have a crush on her?”

The kid looked him directly in the eye and said, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Alex was about to respond when he thought better of it. The whole school assumed he liked her, so it made no real difference if one kid thought otherwise. Instead, Alex turned away and typed in his username and password:

alexanderhamilton

id17571804

To be entirely honest, Alex thought this password system utterly stupid. It was just the letters “id” and then your ID number. Those numbers were no secret. That was the password to everything. It was only a matter of time before his email was hacked. _That_ would be fun. But until then, he could enjoy life hacker-free.

Mr. Greene walked into the class, closing the door behind him. “All right class, open up Google Classroom and start on the assignments I gave you today. Alex, I need to talk to you.”

Alex felt his stomach fill with dread. The whole class went “ooooOooOoOOOoo.” Mr. Greene rolled his eyes. “This conversation was supposed to make our new student feel _appreciated_. I don’t think your sounding like a high-pitched whale will accomplish that.”

 _Whale that settles it_ , Alex thought, his brain picking up on the punning abilities of the study group. _This is going to be a disaster._ Nevertheless, he followed Mr. Greene into the hall.

“Okay Alex,” the teacher started, “I heard that you have a crush on Angelica Schuyler.” Alex blanched. This was _not_ where he expected the conversation to go. “I might be able to help you.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Alex asked. “Why do you care about the romantic affairs of your students?”

“Well, I’m kind of a sucker for middle school drama, so I can’t really help myself. But anyway, her mom and I went to college together, and I know where Angelica will be on Friday night, and I can get you in.”

Alex squinted suspiciously at the man in front of him. Given that a teacher who was considered odd by most standards had just tipped him off that he could get Alex into what was most likely a high society event (through what Alex had to assume would be not quite morally correct means), Alex wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this situation. 

“… Go on,” Alex said cautiously. Mr. Greene had piqued his interest. 

“Well,” Mr. Greene said, a strange smile spreading across his face, “the Schuylers are going to be attending a dance. My wife and I were going to go, but we have prior engagements. And besides, I think you’d get more benefit out of it than I would.”

Alex could only stare. 

Mr. Greene reached in his pocket and removed two ticket stubs. “Here they are. Have fun, my boy.”

Stunned, Alex followed dumbly as Mr. Greene opened the classroom door and walked inside. He sat down at his seat heavily, tucking the tickets in his backpack.

“Hey Alex,” the kid next to him whispered, “what happened?”

Alex smiled, a plan already forming in his head. “Possibly the best thing in my life.” He drew his phone out of his bag.

-

John Laurens

OK so Mr. Greene gave me tickets to a dance Angelica’s supposed to be attending?? Halp this is a romantic matter I need ur advice!!

Haha I knew you liked her!! :))))

:(((

OK fine I’ll shut up about it

THANK YOU

But I shipped you since the beginning ;)

John pls stop

I will, promise. But yeah I can totally help you. When is this dance?

Like this Friday!!!

Meet me at my house after study group tonight

OK thx

Oof gtg M0s. K wanis py phole

-

Alex was confused about John’s last message until he realized it was supposed to say, “Oof gtg Mrs. K wants my phone.” he was even more concerned when he realized that John was texting _in Mrs. K’s class_ ! He’d had a sub in first hour, but perhaps by fourth the demonic teacher (not to be confused with the Demon Teacher) had returned. Texting in class is, of course, the worst sin in the eyes of the grumpy science teacher. Alex was torn between affection that John cared about him enough to text him even though the risks were high and irritation that his best friend was that stupid. He settled for just rolling his eyes and refocused on his computer apps assignments. Well, they weren’t so much assignments as Typing Master. Yes, Typing Master. It sounds innocent and childlike until you actually use it and you realize that it’s the epitome of stupidity. The only rhyme or reason to it is “epitome” and “stupidity.” So like basically it’s this program for kids to learn to type. But the typing exercises go _so slowly_ that Alex wants to pour coffee on the computer to make it go faster. Of course, this is coming from a kid who can type 76 WPM, but still. All in all, the class was… unnecessary at best, horrific at worst. Which is more than can be said for the school.

But at this moment, his brain wasn’t on the class or the ridiculous green-and-blue Typing Master island. It was on Angelica.

Of course, when his mind was on his crush, time had no meaning, so the hour was (thankfully) over before he really got irritated with his computer. The refreshing sound of the bell awoke him from his stupor, and he meandered his way to Social Studies. _Just two more hours to go_ , he thought. Unfortunately, he knew no one in his fifth hour. But after today, everyone knew him.

“Alex, is it true that you like Angelica? Rumor has it, you already asked her out, and she rejected you!” his tablemate whispered to him when he sat down.

Alex sighed. This was going to be a long hour. “As much as I love perpetuating rumors, I don’t really want to perpetuate this one. One thing’s for sure, though: Angelica is scary. And do you really want me to tell her you were talking about her behind her back?”

There was a moment of silence. The girl frowned and looked away. Alex had to stop himself from sighing in relief. What was so strange to them about Alex liking Angelica?

Was it that he had a chance with her?

~~

When Alex walked into band class, something was off: it was quiet. And, as soon as Alex glanced at the whiteboard, he knew why. Someone had drawn hearts all over the whiteboard, and in the middle of them all were the words _Alex x Angelica_ and, under that, _Hamgelica_. Alex groaned and cursed Maria for starting this whole debacle. Upon seeing him, the whole class started giggling maniacally, and Alex facepalmed. This was going to be a long hour.

A bunch of kids pushed him to the front of the room against his will, and he could do nothing to resist them. He was severely outnumbered. If he and Angelica wanted to make it out of this unscathed, they’d have to get the crowd on their side.

“You morons don’t know what you’re talking about!” Angelica screamed as she, too, was hauled to the front of the band room. “I don’t like him, you idiots!” Once she was in front of him, the crowd backed away. To Alex’s great relief, no one filmed the incident. They probably didn’t want to end up like the boy that tried to punch Peggy: locked up in the Schuylers’ basement for a week. Alex had overheard a conversation about this during the study group one day, and it had been haunting him for days.

He was snapped out of his reverie when Angelica said, “As if he would ever love me!” The crowd went silent. “It’s not like I’m worthy of it!” she whispered, just loud enough for Alex to hear. The crowd wanted to hear what she’d said. “I said,” Angelica reinforced, “That he’s probably just lying for attention!” She looked into the eyes of the kids crowded around them. “And he got it, too.” There was a murmur. “Perhaps all he wanted was a bit of acceptance, some acknowledgement of his existence, so he started this rumor to get it. Are you so dense that you only cared about him when you thought he’d die under the gaze of the fear-inspiring Angelica Schuyler? Well, I won’t give you the satisfaction of watching me slaughter him. I think he’s already been treated harshly enough. And the blame rests on you.”

There was a tense minute where no one knew what to say. Then, Angelica started walking towards her saxophone case, and the crowd parted for her. She was unfazed by the silence, and unpacked her instrument as if nothing had happened. Eventually, the students did the same and prepared for the off-chance that Lee would make them play today. Alex was just about to grab his instrument from the lockers in the back of the class when he was yanked towards the practice room hallway. This reminded him of the first time this had happened, on his first day, when Angelica dragged him away. He almost hoped it was Angelica tugging on him so they could talk about what the _heck_ just happened. But no, it was John.

The other boy pulled Alex into practice room 2 and shut the door, then pushed a chair up against the handle. He kept the lights on, though, to Alex’s relief.

“What the _heck_ just happened, man?” Alex’s best friend inquired, dumbfounded.

“I have absolutely no clue,” Alex answered honestly.

“How did the rumor even start that you liked Angelia anyway?”

“ _That_ I can answer,” Alex replied. “Maria saw me glancing in her direction in Mrs. K’s class and assumed. I didn’t deny it, so it’s my fault.”

John laughed. “She would have told the rumor even if you had denied it - _especially_ if you’d denied it. So that’s how you got the tickets from Mr. Greene? He heard the rumor and wanted to help you out?”

“Apparently.”

“That reminds me of the time last year when Mr. Greene bought Herc and Laf tickets to a movie. He was _totally_ setting them up. But, they just thought he was being nice, and the implied date went over their heads. Like, wow, is it possible to be any more dense?”

“Wait, so are Herc and Laf dating now? Or are they friends? Or what?”

“It depends. Sometimes they’re boyfriends, and other times they’re just friends. They’ve probably never talked about it, and neither has the study group. We just accept it.”

Alex was no less confused after that answer but figured it made sense for the two of them. “On a separate note, though, did you get the sense that Angelica wasn’t quite being honest out there?”

“What do you mean?” John frowned.

“I guess… I don’t know, it just felt like she was just performing for the crowd. But I’m probably wrong.”

“I mean, she didn’t hit you over the head with a chair. That’s good.”

“I should be happy with her not beating me up, but I’m not. She’s a puzzle, and I want to figure her out.”

“You can’t control feelings, Alex. If you want to chase after her, well, she might leave you in the dust. But, even if you choose to be an idiot and pine over her, I’ll be on your side.” John patted Alex’s shoulder reassuringly. “Good luck, my friend. I’ll see you at my place after study group, ‘kay?”

“Sure thing.”

John gave him a smile before leaving the practice room. Alex sighed. Something seemed… off about Angelica’s speech in band class. And her words kept repeating in his mind: “It’s not like I’m worthy of it.” Why _wouldn’t_ she be worthy of his love? She was so strong, brave, funny, terrifying, and absolutely, overpoweringly _hot_ . If anything, _Alex_ was unworthy of _her_.

Angelica was a mystery. It was driving Alex mad.

~~

“Heeeey, guys,” Peggy sang, sauntering into Eliza’s room where the study group was meeting.

No one looked in her direction.

“Um, hello? I just said, ‘Heeeeey, guys!’ Look at me, would you?”

Alex looked up to see Peggy dressed in a buttercup-yellow dress that looked fabulous on her, if Alex was being honest. Sleeveless, the dress fell beneath Peggy’s knees and was tied at the waist by a ribbon that was a slightly darker shade of yellow than the rest of the outfit. The skirt puffed out around her legs and was accented by her yellow heels. “Wow, Peggy, you look good. What’s the occasion?”

“Well,” Peggy gushed, “we’re going to this dance thing tomorrow, and I wanted to show you guys my outfit. I really like it, but I wanted to get your opinion: should I wear this sweater or this one?” She brought out two sweaters.

“I think you should go with the first one,” Hercules decided.

“Okay, thanks, Herc.” Peggy skipped back to her room.

“I didn’t know you were into fashion, Hercules,” Alex said.

Lafayette jumped in: “His parents are tailors.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. That’s cool.”

“Wait! Actually, Herc, can Alex and I come over after study group?”

“Yeah, sure. I guess,” Herc muttered, clearly confused.

“Great! This is going to be _so_ entertaining! I mean,” he cleared his throat, “this is serious business.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “That reassures me a great deal.”

Lafayette only asked, “ _Ce parle le quoi?_ ” 

John grinned. “It’s a plan of mine.”

Everyone around them groaned loudly. “Another one of your ‘plans’? Is this going to end up like that attempt to beat Angelica’s record by wearing skin-toned armor?” Lafayette inquired.

“ _No!_ ” Laurens declared loudly. “This will _not_ end up like that time!”

“Mhm sure,” Hercules replied.

“Hey, this is gonna work, I promise.”

~~

Hercules’ dad had let Alex borrow his wedding tuxedo. There was a little (well, a lot) of awkwardness about this exchange from Alex. “I don’t want to spill something on it,” he tried to argue, but Herc’s mom had just said, “We don’t really have a use for it anyway. Go have fun.” And that’s how he ended up riding in a car, wearing a borrowed tux, to a dance where he’d meet people he’d never seen before. He looked over at John, sitting beside him. The other boy gave him a reassuring smile.

“You’ll do great,” he whispered. “I believe in you.”

Alex exhaled. “That’s one of us.”

“I’m just gonna say, if I were straight,” John’s mother said, “I’d totally have a crush on him.”

“Ew, mom, please. You’re married.”

She laughed. “I know, honey. I’m just trying to build Alex’s confidence.”

John rolled his eyes and looked at Alex as if to say, _Moms, am I right?_ Alex smiled, but it was forced. His mom would have said the same thing, were she still alive.

John’s hand reached for Alex’s, but the car stopped abruptly, and he retracted his hand. “We’re here, kids! Break a leg!” John’s mom, Catherine, said. “But don’t _actually_ break a leg. That would be expensive.” She winked. “And Alex, remember, any girl worth her Pringles would like you.”

“ _Mom_ , you’re _still_ _married_!”

Catherine smiled at Alex as he got out of the car. “Call me when you’re ready to leave. Good luck, you two!” She gave them both a thumbs up (which was 100% legal) as she pulled out of the parking lot. Alex and John glanced at the ornate double-doors of the establishment in apprehension.

“Let’s do this,” Alex said confidently. Then, he pushed open the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, sorry about the cliffhanger? I figured you'd prefer something to nothing, so I posted this. Hopefully, part 2 will be posted soon, though "soon" could mean in a week or a month or a month and a half.  
> But stay tuned until then, because next time Alex and Angelica have an intimate conversation on a balcony.


	8. Alex vs. High Society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An intimate balcony conversation between Alex and Angelica leaves John third-wheeling while pretending to be straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! A new chapter less than a week after the previous one!  
> WARNING: This chapter includes some dark topics like depression. Read at your own discretion.  
> Remember: You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and loved more than you know.

The room was large, well-lit, and almost as intimidating as Angelica herself. While the doors were large and central, no one really paid attention to them; everyone was too busy dancing. A fiddler and her ensemble provided music that wasn’t overpoweringly loud. Alex doubted that they used amplification at all. Overall, it was a romantic sight.

A man dressed in a well-pressed suit asked them, “May I have your tickets, please, gentlemen?” Alex handed him Mr. Greene’s tickets. “You’re all good,” he said. “Just make sure not to drink too much, eh?”

Alex laughed. “I don’t have to use alcohol to convince myself that it was lovely to meet you.”

The man quirked his eyebrows. “Are you trying to flatter me?”

Alex frowned. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

There was a pause. The man sighed. “You can put your coats in the room to your left.” As they walked away, Alex swore he heard the man mutter, “Kids these days.”

So, maybe Alex had some work to do on his flattery skills. Okay, a lot of work to do. But, he tried, right? That had to count for something.

Nevertheless, Alex deposited his coat and stepped into the ballroom. He spotted Angelica immediately, radiant in a coral gown that fell to her ankles. Her hair was pulled from her face and fell in curls down her back. She was dancing with a man Alex had never seen before, smiling freely. It was a side of her Alex had never seen before.

He watched the dancers for a while. They formed an intricate pattern on the ballroom floor, weaving in and out of each other in a fabulous display of jewels and fine silk. It was extremely intimidating.

Before Alex knew it, the music ended, and the partners bade each other farewell. This was Alex’s chance.

With as much confidence as he could manage (which wasn’t much, considering), Alex marched onto the ballroom floor and found Angelica chatting with the man she was dancing with. He bowed and left her, and Angelica turned.

She startled when she saw Alex. Her face went through various emotions before settling on anger. “What are you doing here, Alex? I didn’t think you’d be one for high society.” He took a step back as if she’d struck him. Her words cut deep. “I don’t know how you got in here, but you better leave before someone sees you."

Alex frowned. This was not how he expected this to play out. He probably shouldn't have doubted this reaction, but he was disappointed all the same. "I will, I promise. After one dance."

Angelica raised her eyebrows. "Are you threatening me? Because if you are, I can scream, and every man in this room will tackle you at the same time and then you'll suffocate underneath the weight of all those bodies."

Alex blinked. "Noted." He took a minute to expel that image from his mind. "I guess the choice is up to you: do you want to dance?"

Angelica laughed without humor. “Do I _want_ to dance? Better question: does it matter? No! No one cares what _I_ want to do. If my dad sees you, he’ll kill you. I can’t do anything about that. So, for both of our sakes, just leave. _Please_.” When she looked at him, he could see a vulnerability he’d never seen in her eyes before.

Alex knew it would be best if he left, but he was fatally stubborn. “Couldn’t we go somewhere else? Away from your father?”

Angelica was about to argue, but then the music started. She grabbed his hand and pulled. Alex was reminded of the infamous Donald Trump handshake. Unwilling to argue, Alex followed as Angelica yeeted him to the stairs and up to the second floor. He tried desperately not to trip over his own feet and almost fell twice, while Angelica seemed to have no trouble running up narrow stairs in heels. That was it: Angelica was a goddess.

They emerged in the not-often-used second floor of the ballroom. It was small - just a ring from which one could observe the dancer from above. But no one would think to look up. And if they did, all they’d see would be a boy and a girl talking. Nothing suspicious.

Alex was just starting to calm down when Angelica turned on him, face flushed with anger. “Why are you here Alex? Why did you ruin my _one night_ away from all of middle school drama? I’ve heard the rumors. ‘Alex likes you,’ ‘Alex wants to go out with you,’ ‘Do you like him back?’ bla bla bla. I have a reputation to uphold, Alex. My reputation, that’s all I have, do you understand?” She paused and looked into his eyes intensely. “Do you understand that? I can’t let people in because I don’t know what will happen. I don’t trust people because I’m afraid I’ll break. Again.” She looked at the floor.

Alex took her hands in his. “But those people who love you, those people you let in, when you break, they will help you pick up those pieces of who you are. The people you love can cause you the most harm but also the most good. It’s okay to be afraid, though. We all are.” Alex took a deep breath. He’d never told this to anyone before. “I trusted my mother with all my heart. I just assumed she’d be there forever. And when she died, I wasn’t said. I was angry. No, I was _furious_ that she could leave me without saying goodbye.” Alex paused to swallow the lump in his throat.

“It wasn’t her fault that she died,” Angelica said quietly.

“I _know_ that, but it doesn’t change my feelings.”

Angelica nodded. “It’s okay, you know. It’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to be hurt, to be broken. It’s okay to be angry and scared. It’s okay to be lost.” She placed a gentle hand on his chest. “So long as you let someone find you.”

He looked into her eyes, and he noticed she was gazing into his. Her eyes were shards of glass, beautiful yet shattered, destroyed. He was sure her eyes would haunt his nightmares.

“So I guess we’re both just broken souls searching for shelter,” Angelica whispered. Alex hadn’t realized how close she was until he could feel her warm breath on his face.

“I guess we are,” he answered.

To his astonishment, Angelica wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Alex, after a moment’s shock, returned the hug, holding onto her, afraid to ever let her go. They stayed in that position until the song ended. Then, Angelica pulled away. Her eyes were damp.

“Why do you care about me, Alex?” she asked, so quiet he could barely hear her.

“When I look in your eyes, I see a whole universe. I see clouds of dust you can shape into whatever you want. I see stars, burning bright and beautiful, inside you, Angelica.”

“What if, when you get to know me, you see that I’m not a good person? What if you see that I’m a flawed person just like everyone else? What if you see that I’m not a goddess, a legend, a hero? I’m a villain. Just a villain, nothing more. I have no place in your life, Alex. You’d be better off without me. Everyone would.”

“Look at me.” Angelica met his eyes, then looked away. Alex cupped her cheeks and turned her face so she couldn’t help but meet his eyes. “You are not worthless, broken, or beyond repair. The study group is afraid of you, yes, but they also love you. Any of us would do anything for you. You don’t see it because you don’t let yourself see it. But it’s there. We care about you. _I_ care about you, Angelica. This world would be a much darker place without you in it. Trust me.”

“How can you be so sure? I’m just a burden. Don’t try to deny it. I see how they look at me. I’m a nuisance. Entertaining at best, infuriating at worst.”

“That’s not how they see you. They might think you’re a bit… odd, but you have the authority to get things done. You have the strength to stand up for what you believe in and the motivation to make sure you are heard. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re not the villain. You might just be my knight in shining armor.”

“Can you stop flirting for _one minute_ ?” Angelica snapped. “I know you think you’re all that and a bag of chips but you know something? We’re both just kids faking their way through life.” She sighed. “Could you please just be honest with me? Stop trying to put a positive spin on things that obviously don’t have an upside. I can accept that. What I can’t accept is that people - my _friends_ \- are lying to me.”

“Are we friends, Angelica?” Alex asked cautiously.

She had a gleam in her eye when she answered, “For now.”

Then, she did something entirely uncharacteristic of Angelica: she leaned in and kissed Alex’s cheek. “Text me sometime, okay?” She smiled at him (yes, actually smiled) and disappeared down the staircase.

Alex, shocked, blinked multiple times before following her down the stairs. He spotted John dancing with a nice-looking girl in green. Once the song ended, he came up to him and said, “If Mr. Schuyler finds us, he’ll kill us. I’ve done what I came here to do. Let’s go.”

John nodded. “Yeah, dancing with girls isn’t really enjoyable for me.”

“Cool. Let’s get out of here.”

They passed the doorman, who gave them a quizzical look but didn’t say anything. A few minutes later, at John’s request, his mom appeared. Throughout the car ride, Alex gazed out the car window, thinking about his conversation with Angelica. She spilled all her secrets, her insecurities, her pain. Her eyes were bright, like flames in the darkness. He’d seen something special tonight. She’d trusted him completely. He wouldn’t let her down.

He opened his phone and typed a text to her.

-

Angelica Schuyler

Do you want to hang out sometime?

-Alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news, everyone! The creators are working on the next chapter and hope to have it out by the day's end!


	9. Alex vs. the Ping Pong Tournament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The study group meets up for their weekend activity, which this time is ping pong. Angelica is a goddess, Alex sucks at the game worse than Lafayette (which is hard, believe us), and James is way too invested in Angelica and Alex's relationship.  
> What else is new?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout-out to sunshiner89 for coming up with moldfish! The name just stuck. :)

The next morning over breakfast (which was cereal, so James couldn’t mess it up too badly), Alex’s brother asked him about Angelica. “Has she texted you back yet?”

Alex groaned. “Grab my phone and I’ll tell you.”

James laughed. “You can’t still be tired. It’s 9:30 and you just woke up. Get it yourself.”

“No can do. If you don’t bring it to me, I won’t tell you what she wrote.”

James grinned mischievously. “So if I  _ do _ bring it to you, you have to tell me everything she wrote, even down to the emojis, punctuation, and every missing or added comma, got it?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Sure.” James grinned, then went to Alex’s room and brought out his phone.

James whistled. “One new notification! A message from none other than Angelica Schuyler!” He cleared his throat and put on a fake high voice. “‘I would love to!’ - note the exclamation point - ‘What do you suppose we do’ - question mark. Someone’s interested in you, little brother!”

Alex sighed. “I’m not sure how to feel about the fact that you’re surprised.”

James chuckled. “I know you’re destined for great things. I just didn’t think they’d happen in eighth grade.” He handed the phone back to Alex.

The phone buzzed. It was another message from Angelica.  _ What happened last night never happened _ , she’d written.

Alex thought a moment before replying. Well, more than a moment. He kind of spent a half an hour thinking of what to say, typing messages, deleting them, and starting the cycle over again. Eventually, he settled on this:

-

Angelica Schuyler

Got it. My lips are sealed

So, isn’t ice skating a thing people do? Could we try that?

Yes, indeed it is something ppl do

What about tomorrow at 2? There’s open skate at the ice arena

Sounds great!

I can pick you up if you’d like? My brother can drive us although there’s like a 30% chance we might die 

That works for me

-

Alex wasn’t entirely sure of what emotion he was feeling right now, although it had him practically bursting with excitement. A date with Angelica! Well, perhaps not a date, they had never really put a label on their relationship except for that “friend” label last night. Alex still wasn’t sure if Angelica had friendzoned him because she’d said “For now.” That could mean they could be more - or less. All in all though, Alex was decently sure that he would be murdered in his sleep if he told anyone they were a couple, especially anyone who could continue to spread rumors at school, that he had gone on a date with the elusive Angelica Schuyler. So of course he immediately texted John. 

-

John Laurens

So I think I’m going on a date with Angelica

What

Repeat that

A date. With Angelica

-

Just then, his phone buzzed. It was Angelica again. 

-

Angelica Schuyler

BTW this is NOT a date.

Got it

-

Alex sighed. Were women always this confusing?

-

John Laurens

NVM, it is not, in fact, a date

:(

-

“So… what did she say?” James questioned, a sly grin plastered across his face. Alex wasn’t loving how invested in his relationships his brother already was. Seriously, it had been like three days.

“So far all I know is that I’m going ice skating with her tomorrow and that it’s not a date.” James practically squealed with joy, slapping a hand down on the table which caused his soggy cereal to slosh dangerously. 

“Alex is going on a date!” he yelled, apparently losing the ability to hear after the words ‘ice skating with her.’ 

“Have you gone deaf?” Alex asked, sending a lazy glare at his over-excited brother. “She told me it isn’t a date.” 

“Exactly! If she thought it necessary to specify, it is  _ definitely _ a date!” 

Slowly spooning dry cereal into his mouth (he ate the cereal and milk separately because otherwise it would get all soggy and gross like James’), Alex sighed. “Just stay out of it. I need you to take us to the ice rink at two tomorrow, and other than that please don’t bring it up again.”

“No can do, little brother! I will be teasing you till the day I die, mark my words.” Alex groaned as his brother sprang up from the table, giggling maniacally as he sauntered out of the kitchen. At least Alex didn't have to deal with him anymore. His phone buzzed again.  _ Elizabeth Schuyler has added you to  _ The Study Group Will Rule The World. Suddenly his phone blew up with notifications. It seemed as though everyone was texting at once with no regard as to an actual conversation. 

-

The Study Group Will Rule the World

Eliza: Friendly reminder to everyone that we have a ping pong match at Herc’s today!

Angelica: No one shall defeat me, the reigning champion!

Hercules: oh crap I forgot let me tell my mom

Hercules: We have food now! Hopefully y’all are OK with Goldfish

Peggy: more like moldfish eheheh

Lafayette: Good point - how long have you had those fish?

Hercules: we went shopping yesterday, don't worry

Hercules: they’re the weird pretzel ones

Peggy: *chanting* moldfish moldfish

John: *chanting intensifies* MOLDFISH MOLDFISH

Lafayette: MOLDFISH MOLDFISH MOLDFISH

Hey what THE HECK is going on

Eliza: Excellent question

Angelica: fool, none of us know. It’s ping pong day

John: Welcome to the chaos that is the study group chat! We never know what’s going on 

John: Also memes are greatly appreciated

What time is this “ping pong match?”

Angelica: 10:30. Be there or be square

-

Glancing at the top of his phone, Alex realized that it was already after ten and he was still sitting in the kitchen in his pajamas, still with half a bowl of dry cereal in front of him. He raced up the stairs to throw on some random outfit after downing his glass of milk. He was sure he had a severe milk-mustache but he couldn’t care less at this point. Angelica sounded vaguely threatening (no surprise there), and he wasn’t particularly interested in finding out what “be square” meant to her. 

“Hey,” James stuck his head into Alex’s bedroom, watching his brother scurrying around frantically, gathering who knows what for the day ahead. “What are you doing? I thought we were just staying home today. Unless you have a date.” 

Looking up from digging through a cardboard moving box in search of some socks, Alex retorted, his cheeks  _ only  _ flushed from exertion, “No, I don’t have a date. The study group gets together and does... stuff on Saturdays. And I guess today is a ping pong day, not that I particularly want to be around most of them with anything that could be used as a weapon. But I may as well go; I have nothing else to do.”

“Not like we just moved in a week ago and you’re literally living out of a few boxes,” James replied in a mockingly sassy tone. 

“We’ve lived out of worse,” Alex said, locating his socks (which were, regrettably, mismatched) and beginning to try and pull them on standing up. He succeeded after a moment of hopping around, which was actually quite lucky. Normally, if he tried something requiring that amount of balance, he’d end up writhing around on the ground with leg cramps.

“I heard that this house is haunted,” James said nonchalantly, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“John said so too. I can’t see why. I mean, I don’t  _ see _ any trap doors waiting to swallow us or ghosts hiding in the basement.”

“Alex, there isn’t a basement.”

“What a rip off,” Alex deadpanned. “I have to go, I might get murdered if I’m late.”

“By Angelica? That’s pretty hot.” 

Alex was ready to wipe the grin off his brother’s face, but for the moment he contained his anger. “You know, if I died, your ship would sink. So, think about that while I’m gone.” He ran down the stairs, narrowly avoiding a very ungraceful fall, and ran out the door, forgoing a coat in his hurry. 

By some great stroke of luck, Alex managed not to slip on the ice that had formed over the night and arrived at Hercules' house out of breath and exhausted. Stepping up onto the front porch, he could hear the racket that his friends were already causing. He knocked on the door loudly, and John opened it almost immediately.

“Thank  _ goodness _ you’re here! Angelica was just about to murder you!” he exclaimed. He dropped his voice. “I think she’s just mad she didn’t get to see you.”

Peggy appeared behind John’s shoulder. “Spicy,” she said with a smirk.

“Bro, please.” John didn’t say anything more, but his grin said that he was not planning on dropping the subject.

Peggy giggled, the odd high pitched sound grating on Alex’s nerves as she tossed a “moldfish” in his direction and zipped off around a corner. Sighing deeply, Alex pulled off his snow-caked boots and dumped them unceremoniously into the growing pile of winter gear next to the door.

He was about to ask where the tournament was taking place, but a scream echoing from below told him that it was happening in the basement. 

“So,” Alex turned to John, “ready to watch me get my butt kicked at ping pong?”

John grinned. “Always.”

They ran down the stairs and emerged in a large room mostly taken up by an old rickety folding ping pong table. There was carpeting on the floor that clearly used to be white. It was - spoilers - a mixture of cheeto dust, spilled drinks, and many years of dust and dirt. It felt as homey as a basement could get, and Alex was immediately comfortable.

Angelica was currently at the ping pong table, facing off against a very determined looking Lafayette. Angelica was crouched in a surprisingly competitive position (but really not that surprising considering it was Angelica), an angry scowl adorning her face as she clutched the paddle in a death grip. Lafayette had tied his hair back in a very bad ponytail that looked painful but at least kept the hair out of his eyes.

“Angelica has five points, Lafayette is at one,” Eliza announced, looking up from the pad of paper in her hands. “Nice job, Laf. You’re doing pretty well.” Several of the other spectators cheered at this. 

“Usually he loses without scoring a single point; Laf is pretty bad at this,” John explained. He led Alex over to a set of currently unoccupied bean bag chairs, flopping into one of them and snatching a bag of chips out of Hercules’ hands (his protest was muffled by the sheer amount of food already shoved into his mouth. Alex was vaguely disgusted). Shoving a handful of the chips into his own mouth, John offered the bag to Alex who tentatively took some. 

They settled in for a long tournament, except it wasn’t really that long. Lafayette really did suck at ping pong, and the score was settled in about five minutes. 

“Angelica wins!”Eliza proclaimed, sounding bored. “And the score is 20 to 1! Good job, everyone.” Cheers resounded through the room. “Next up we have” - she checked her scoring pad - “Peggy! May the odds be ever in your favor! And may the Force be with you!”

Peggy, like a bride at no wedding ever, threw her bouquet of moldfish into Alex’s lap before catching the paddle tossed to her and sashaying her way up to the table.

“You ready to lose, dear sister?” Angelica asked, already back in position to smash the ball back across the table, hard enough to give her opponent bruises for weeks.

“Oh yeah,” Peggy said. “Bring it on!”

Eliza raised her arms for quiet. “Alright, contestants. Are you ready?” Her sisters responded with screams of “Yes!” and the others all cheered in agreement. Eliza swiped a ball out of the basket set beside her and tossed it to Angelica. “Knock yourselves out, girls. Not literally though, please be mindful of injuries Angie. And please don’t make Herc’s parents fill out paperwork or buy another new light fixture. You know how much they hate that.” Raising the oddly painted flag sitting next to her (the design a skull and crossbones but a ping pong ball and paddles), Eliza yelled, “On your marks!” The whole room tensed, a quiet falling over them (excluding the crunching of the snacks filling everyone’s hands). “Get set!” The two sisters glared at each other, and Alex was pretty sure he heard Angelica snarl a little bit. “Pong!” The cry to begin rang out, and the crowd of not-quite-teenagers all began yelling again as the little plastic ball flew back and forth across the table at lightning speeds.

The game was over quickly (not quite as quickly as Laf’s was), and Peggy lost with a whole seven points on her side. Cheers followed her as she walked away from the table, many of the others slapping her back in congratulations of earning what she did. All the while, Alex was munching on his moldfish. He was sure that he would never be able to think of them as Goldfish from now on. 

The next games passed just as quickly, no one managing to score above Peggy’s record of seven. Finally, the time came when everyone except Alex had played. Eliza said, “And next up we have our newest contestant: Alexander ‘the man with the plan’ Hamilton!” Cheers rang out as he was announced, and Alex stood up nervously. He was sweating already and hadn’t even stepped up to the table, whereas his opponent had been exerting a surprising amount of energy for ping pong and hadn’t even broken a sweat. “Will he be able to beat our reigning champion? Or will he meet the same miserable fate as Lafayette? Stay tuned while we pause for a commercial break.” Eliza hopped off the stool she had been occupying to come over to where Alex was nervously turning the paddle over in his hand. Setting a gentle hand on his shoulder, she whispered a quiet “Good luck” before returning to her announcer’s perch.

“Welcome back to this week’s episode of  _ Ping Pong with Angelica _ , where our newest contestant, Alex, is challenging this show’s namesake, Angelica. Are you ready for this?” The five other people in the room cheered, but they were more deafening than an entire football stadium. “Contestants, are you ready?” 

“What happens if I say no?” Alex asked. 

Eliza shrugged. “We’ve never had that happen before. Take your marks!” Alex swallowed thickly, trying (and failing) to ready himself for his inevitable defeat. “Get set!” He tried to assume the same stance that Angelica had taken, hoping that copying her position might help him. “Pong!” 

The ball was tossed to Angelica, and before Alex had time to blink, the ball had already bounced its way across the table and right past him. 

“Oh! A crippling loss by Alex! First point goes to Angelica!” Eliza called out, while Peggy in the background screamed “Strike one!” Eliza turned to her younger sister. “This is not baseball, Pegs. There are no strikes.”

The rest of the game seemed to pass by in the same fashion, Alex barely managing to get in a single strike of the ball before it either hit him in the face or rolled off the table. Before he knew any time had passed, Eliza had called the final score. 

“And Angelica wins once again! Alex takes a loss, earning a whole zero points! Congratulations on your first game.” Sighing heavily, Alex tossed the paddle on the table and returned to the bean bag chairs, finding that John had stolen the bag of moldfish and was happily eating them. Quite ef _ fish _ iently at that.

“This is a betrayal,” Alex said emotionlessly. “I thought I could trust you.” 

“There are plenty more moldfish,” John consoled, tossing the bag back to Alex. “Hurry up and sit down though; they’ll be announcing who’s moving on to the next round soon.”

“Wait - what do you mean?” Alex was totally confused, not really knowing how sports worked in general, much less ping pong with obviously altered rules. 

“Well,” John explained, “the tournament starts with everyone facing off against Angelica. The two (or four, depending on how many people show up) people who have the highest scores continue on to the next round where they face off against each other. Then, the winner of that can play Angelica again if they wish. Apparently it’s an honor or something.”

“Sweet. I don’t have to play,” Alex said, remembering that Lafayette had scored above him this round.

“Getting the worst score possible kind of does that to you.”

“In this case, it’s a relief. I don’t know if I can play her again today.”

“Well, I have to play against Peggy.” He got up. “Save some moldfish for me!” He went over to the ping pong table and grabbed the paddle.

“Okay Johnny-boy. We’re not playing nice anymore. You and me, bro. One winner. And it’s going to be me!”

“Yes, Peggy, we all know that you’re the center of the universe,” John retorted, rolling his eyes as if he were used to this.

“Good to know that you’ve got one thing straight,” Peggy replied, bouncing on the balls of her feet with anticipation.

“Okay, guys!” Eliza said. “Winner of this round gets the title of tournament winner! Of course, Angelica’s always the champion, but you get to be second best. So, are you ready?”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Peggy responded loudly. 

Eliza caught the reference. “I can’t hear you!”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Peggy somehow managed to increase in volume and the whole room echoed.

John just offered a salute. It was quite anticlimactic.

“On your marks!” They glared at each other, the humor of the SpongeBob reference dead and in its pineappley grave. “Get set!” The whole room leaned in. “Pong!” The two immediately sprung into action, both swiping the ball back and forth for a surprisingly long time considering how quickly Angelica had shut down any attempt at holding a decent volley. They were, as Alex, an untrained ping pong player, could tell, a good match.

Their match went on long enough for Alex to get through a third of the moldfish bag, which was pretty good, seeing as the crackers were the driest things imaginable and water was unavailable.

Eventually, to no one’s surprise, Peggy won the match. After she was offered the chance to play against Angelica, she declined, to everyone’s dismay (or relief, on Alex’s part). Watching ping pong match after ping pong match could get boring. Besides, there were no good snacks left. It was all moldfish and all of the drinks had long since disappeared.

After the tournament was finished, the Schuyler sisters quickly bid the group goodbye and headed home, and many of the others following soon after. The Schuylers were, of course, the life of the party, despite being only three, and without their quirky influence, the study group would not be quite as interesting. 

“Alright everyone,” Alex said, hauling himself off the of the bean bag chair and dropping the rest of the moldfish into John’s lap, “I’m heading out. It’s not like my brother particularly cares about where I am, but personally moldfish isn’t really enough for lunch and I have things I need to unpack.”

A chorus of “bye”s was heard from the room as Alex lef. He popped his head into the kitchen to thank Hercules’ mom for hosting them all, and then pulled his boots on and made his way out the door, slipping on the ice and tripping over his own feet. 

If this was  _ walking _ on ice, what would  _ skating _ be like?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We just typed this whole chapter in three and a half hours straight (or gay - we are definitely not). We finally got to write together again! Perhaps there will be another chapter coming in the near future - who knows?


	10. Alex vs. Ice Skating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex invites Angelica on a "not-date", although he truly didn't know what he would be getting himself into. James does a bit of meddling and Alex discovers his brother actually has a voicemail. Alex and Angelica have a few relatively non-threatening interactions. Chaos insues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...its been three months since our last update, but as quarantine has begun to lighten a back porch writers conference was orchestrated. We finally finished the chapter, and have eaten most of a package of Oreos. Good times, am I right? Hopefully as school work lightens and we can start to meet up more often, we will continue to work on our horrible amazing monster of a fanfiction - not adri (I guess I don't have a pseudonym yet)

Alex woke up on Sunday morning very nervous yet excited for the day to come. He was going on a not-quite-date with Angelica! Was this the greatest day of his life? Perhaps. But it might also be the worst day of his life, he didn’t know yet. A lot depended on his brother.

It was then that he realized: he had never skated before. And he had also neglected to ask whether or not Angelica had… but no matter. He would enjoy himself today, and hopefully she would too. 

Finally deciding that getting out of bed would be a good idea (reminded by his angry and loud stomach), Alex slowly made his way down to the kitchen, only to be greeted by James who looked way to awake and energetic for it to be 8:00 in the morning. “Is there any coffee left?” Alex mumbled, still only half awake.

“What? You think I’m high on caffeine? No, I’m just excited that you have a girlfriend! Alex and Angelica, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes-” 

“Please, please, for the sake of everything half-decent in this world, shut up,” Alex begged. Maybe this wouldn’t be a good day, especially since James was supposed to drive them. 

“You love it, you just won’t admit it!” James said, whisking around the kitchen, preparing something for breakfast that Alex really hoped would be edible. 

“No, actually I don't. You’re obnoxious and horrible and I really would love some caffeine.”

James sighed. “Would it be better if I said, K-I-L-L-I-N-G?”

“Probably more accurate,” Alex groaned. “What are you making?” 

“It’s a surprise!” James sang, twirling his spatula in the air, narrowly avoiding taking out Alex’s nose. Alex watched as some small bit of food flung off it and stuck on the wall. He gagged just a tiny bit as James began humming, completely off-key. The song was a horrible old love song with the most hetero lyrics. 

“Please no,” Alex whined, knowing he could do nothing about the music, “the last time you told me you were making a surprise it was meatloaf and I’m sure you remember how that turned out.”   
James grimaced as he turned to Alex, saying “That’s a low blow, Alex. I thought we agreed not to bring that one up?”

“I thought we agreed not to keep what you’ll be forcing me to eat a secret anymore? At least that way I can prepare myself.”

James scoffed. “My cooking isn’t  _ that  _ bad.”

Alex leveled a mock glare at him. “Yes, it is that bad.”

James raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. But your dating skills are worse.”

“How are they worse than  _ your cooking _ ?”

James only laughed. “You asked a girl ice skating. You’ve never even touched a pair of skates before.”

Alex sighed. “Sure. Yes, that was a stupid move, okay? But she’s probably not great at skating either, and it will be a fun new experience for both of us. I mean, how bad can it be, honestly?”

James patted his brother’s head. “Pretty bad, trust me.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You know me. I can make a pick-up line out of any situation. Besides, if I slip and fall on my face, I can say ‘Look, Angelica, I fell for you.’ See? It'll be fine.”

James hummed non-comitally. “We’ll see about that.”

~~

Alex knocked on Angelica’s door at 1:45. A moment later, she opened it, stepping out onto the front porch. She wore a light jacket and had a duffel bag thrown over her shoulder. “Hey, Alex! You ready to go skating?”

Alex laughed, a bit embarrassed. “Well, I’ve never skated before…”

Angelica smiled, and Alex was a little bit disconcerted. “This will be fun, then!” she said, walking past him to the car from which James was watching, stalker-like. She climbed in the back seat, and Alex sat down beside her.

James, too soon, started talking. “So, Angelica, how are you at skating?”

“I’m okay. How’s Alex?”

James giggled. “You’ll have to find out.” 

Angelica grinned at Alex, and the nagging feeling that he really didn’t think out this date well enough came back with a vengeance.

There was an awkward silence for a minute before James broke it. “So, um, how did you two meet?” James asked, the overly questioning lilt to his voice grating on Alex’s nerves.

Angelica smirked, recalling the story of how she had dragged him into a dimly-lit room and interrogated him, and Alex panicked just a little bit. James really didn't need to know _that_ much about his dating adventures. 

“We have band together,” she said, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. The sigh of relief that passes Alex’s lips was greater than the one he heaved when John told him he had an excuse not to eat the cursed mac ‘n’ cheese. 

“Oh?” James inquired. Alex really wasn’t sure of how his brother was managing to be so annoying with even the simplest bits of information, but James managed it quite well. “So, what’s your favorite food?”

Angelica sighed. “I’ve heard about your cooking. I mean no disrespect, but I would not eat anything off your table even if I were starving and it was the last food in existence. So, please do not expect me to. I’m sure that if you attempted to cook anything that I liked I would never be able to eat it again,” Angelica stated coolly.

James stiffened. He then chuckled. “Good catch, Alex. I like this one.”

Alex facepalmed. “Don’t embarrass me, please and thank you, brother dear.”

Angelica came to his rescue for once. “I agree with Alex. I can embarrass him just fine without your help.” 

James burst out laughing. “I know this is your first date-”

“It’s not a date,” Alex and Angelica said in unison, Alex’s tone panicked and Angelica's still impossibly smooth and calm. 

“Whatever,” James chuckled, “I approve of this pairing. You better keep her around Alex, or  _ I’ll _ be dissapointed.”

Alex sighed. “Please just shut up.”

“Okay, okay.” James smacked his hand against his chest in mock offense. “I’ll give you two some-” he wiggled his eyebrows - “alone time.” 

“James we’re literally sitting two feet behind you. There’s nothing private about being jammed into the backseat of your car,” Alex argued, his face tinging red.

“Is that a  _ blush _ I see?” James asked, the high pitch of his voice sounding like something out of a horrible 2000s chick flick.

“I told you to shut up!” Alex snapped, and Angelica snickered beside him.

“Yup, it’s  _ definitely _ a blush,” James decided, refocusing his eyes on the road (finally - James needed to watch where they were going unless he wanted to get them all killed). “Anyways, we’re here! Alex, you have money right?” Alex nodded in confirmation as James pulled up to the side of the road before the ice rink. The two in the backseat quickly let themselves out. “Have fun, lovebirds!” James called after them, a treacherous grin plastered across his face. “Use protection!” Alex slammed the door.

The two of them stood on the curb and watched James drive off, cackling like a maniac. Angelica waved as she hiked her bag higher on her shoulder. “Well then,” she turned to Alex, “ready to go in?”

“What happens if I say no?” Alex asked.

“Then I will drag you in there myself. I didn’t come all this way for nothing!”

And with that, she marched into the building, and Alex was left with no choice but to follow.

Angelica helped Alex rent skates, and then she asked, “Do you need help tying them? They need to be really tight.”

“No,” Alex said indignantly. He may be bad at dating, but he certainly knew how to tie shoes. 

Angelica raised her eyebrows suspiciously. “Alright, whatever you say.” She turned to her bag, unzipping it and pulling out a pair of sleek white figure skates and pulling off the purple and pink guards. Alex pushed down the feeling of dread filling him at her obvious knowledge of how to skate and busied himself with his own skate laces. 

A minute later, Alex stood up on the thin blades, wobbling dangerously. Angelica looked down at them with judgement in her eyes. “This won’t do at  _ all _ ,” she said, sitting back down on the bench and pulling Alex down next to her. Confusion filled his eyes as she swept his leg up into her lap, fingers working at the loose knot. 

“How did you even expect to be able to skate in these?” she questioned vehemently, fingers nimbly undoing the laces. “They're so loose you would have fallen over the second you set foot on the ice.” But Alex wasn’t particularly listening. He could only think about the fact that his foot was on Angelica’s lap.

Then Angelica yanked the laces so tight it hurt, angrily mumbling to herself about “imbeciles who can’t even tie skates properly.” Once she was done with torturing that foot, she moved on to his other one, which was tingling at the thought. She followed the same procedure, and Alex could feel the circulation leaving his feet and ankles, never to return.

Finally, she stood and offered him a hand. He took it, and then promptly fell over. What could he say, skates were nearly impossible to walk in, especially if you couldn’t feel your toes.

From his very undignified position on the floor which was wet and questionable, Alex said the only thing he could: “It appears I have fallen for you.”

Angelica rolled her eyes, but Alex could see the slight tinge of red to her cheeks. “Get up, idiot.” She stuck out her hand again, offering to pull him up off the floor. At this point, Alex was entirely sure she could lift his entire body as if it were cotton, it seemed as though she was probably much stronger than him. Consequently, he was on his feet without much trouble.

“I should punch you for that,” Angelica said, breaking the silence.

“Well,” Alex said slyly, “you wouldn’t want it to appear like you were  _ hitting on me _ , would you?”

Angelica facepalmed. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Despite how annoying I may be, you gotta admit I’m at least nice to look at.”

Angelica was not impressed. “I’d rather look at a rotten banana peel that has spent weeks in the sun and is covered in flies.” 

“Let’s just go skate,” Alex grumbled, smoothly transitioning out of that, um, mishap. Usually his flirting worked, and he thought he had her for a second, but in the end Angelica had won this round.

They made their way to the ice rink, Alex gaping at the size of the arena, while Angelica had an ease about her that made Alex exceedingly nervous. Clearly, she was no novice when it came to ice skating. They approached the entrance to the rink, and Angelica stepped onto the ice, immediately gliding a few feet and executing a smooth turn to look back at Alex.

“Aren’t you coming?” she called. Alex frowned. When Angelica did it, it didn’t look too hard. I mean, it’s only skating.

“Just a second,” he replied, before gripping the side of the doorway and taking a shaky step onto the plastic barrier between safe, solid ground and the slippery surface on which he could see Angelica maneuvering perfectly.

“I’m waiting,” Angelica taunted, spinning in a perfect circle.

Alex, in response, stepped carefully onto the ice. He glided for about two inches before promptly falling on his butt. 

“Ow,” he muttered, and Angelica laughed as she skated towards him. 

“Have you ever been skating before?” she questioned, snickers still escaping as she came to a sharp stop in front of him.

“No,” he groaned, wiping his now cold hands on his pants. “Can you help me stand up?”

Angelica sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen: I’ll help you up, and then I’ll do my best to teach you how to skate. And then, if you can’t figure it out quickly, you sit on the bench because I’m not dealing with this today.”

Alex sighed. She really wasn’t making this easy, but neither was he. She reached down to help him up and he, now with much less confidence, made his way to standing.

“Alright, take my hand.” Angelica slipped her hand into his, and began to slowly make her way forward. 

“Hey wait!” Alex panicked just a little, he really didn’t know what he was doing and the fact that it was Angelica helping him along didn’t particularly quell his unease. He had always hoped that he would be smoother during the first date (it was  _ not _ a date, though, he remembered Angelica saying), but here he was making an absolute fool of himself in front of the girl he was interested in. This was  _ not  _ how he imagined today going. “Slow down, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Calm yourself,” Angelica said, although she was no longer moving. “You don’t have to make such a big deal of this, it’s always hard your first try. And,” she paused, “I’m proud of you for making it onto the ice. Don’t disappoint me now.”

Alex was caught unaware, and so he did what he knew best. He panicked. 

“Uh, is there a bathroom here?” Alex stammered, face heated and hands trembling slightly. 

“Yes, but we were out there literally a minute ago. Couldn’t you have gone then?” Angelica sounded disappointed. Then, her face changed, as if she’d realized something. “Hey, you’re doing fine. You’d think I was as awesome as I am now when I first started, but it took me two days to learn how to stand up.”

Alex continued to panic. “I didn’t have to go earlier can you show me where the bathroom is?”

Angelica sighed, her expression unreadable. “It’s the hallway right to the left when you get off the ice. Have fun,” she said, helping him limp to the exit and immediately speeding off, gracefully joining the other skaters. Alex watched her for a second, unable to look away, and when she caught him staring, she winked. And then Alex panicked again and wobbled in a most unmanly fashion to the bathroom.

He shoved the door open, hoping for some cool air, however it was only warmer in the closed-off area. Stopping by the sink, he turned on the cold water and waited for it to get frigid. He glanced at his reflection, noticed that his face was extremely red, and muttered, “What am I doing? This isn’t like you…” He trailed off, splashing some of the water on his face, hoping the extreme temperature would shock him back to reality. It was just cold, and the temperature made him cringe. His face was still red. He groaned and buried his face in his hands to avoid his reflection. This definitely-not-a-date really wasn’t going well.  _ Come on, it’s not that bad _ , Alex thought,  _ you’re only on what easily could be a date with a highly intimidating girl who keeps insisting that it is  _ not  _ a date _ . 

Taking a deep breath to pull himself together, Alex patted his face dry with a paper towel and tried to gather the courage to go back out into the open and face Angelica. This not-a-date was proving to be a lot harder than Alex had imagined, what with never having ice skated before and Angelica denying the dateness of the not-date. Alex hadn’t prepared himself enough for this, and the reality of what was happening suddenly hit him. It was all too real. Angelica was offering him her time and kindness, which was so novel considering her usual icy demeanor he wasn’t sure how to respond. But he could do nothing just sulking in an unfamiliar bathroom, and if he stayed here, he would ruin his thin chances with Angelica. So he took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy door, tripping over his skates in his attempt to reach the ice.

He paused at the entrance, searching for Angelica in the stream of people rushing past, looking comfortable and not at all terrified of the slippery surface most people seemed to easily maneuver across. It wasn’t hard to spot Angelica; it seemed she had warmed up while Alex was having a crisis in the bathroom, and she was currently twirling gracefully across the ice as an amazed gaggle of young girls watched. Alex steeled himself, and carefully set the blade of his skate on the ice, holding his breath. When it held steady, not slipping and immediately killing him, Alex brought his other foot to join it, shaking far too violently for his anxieties to go unnoticed. 

Angelica seemed to have caught on to Alex’s reappearance quickly, and she made a quick lap around the ice, coming to a halt beside Alex as he shuffled along the wall. 

“Welcome back,” she said, her flat tone confusing Alex further. She wasn’t necessarily being sarcastic, but there was no sincerity that he could find either. 

“Thanks,” Alex finally managed to say, legs still shaking slightly. At this point he wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or the skates. 

Angelica raised an eyebrow at Alex’s attempts to keep any forward motion, finding the odd shuffling slightly entertaining. She giggled, and Alex got the strange urge to record Angelica’s laugh and make it his ringtone, even though it was at his expense.

“Here, let me help you,” Angelica said, skating in front of him and making him pause his shuffling. She held out her hands. “Grab onto my wrists. I’ll skate backwards, and all you have to do is stay upright.” Alex hesitated, worried she was going to drop him, and Angelica noticed. “Look, as entertaining as it would be to see you fall on your face, I know you’re completely capable of doing that without my help. I promise I won’t hurt you.” Alex swallowed, then let go of the wall and grabbed Angelica’s wrists tightly. “Ready?” she asked, and Alex nodded nervously.

Angelica began to skate backwards, dragging Alex after her. At first she went slowly, and Alex’s grip tightened as he was close to falling twice. But Angelica’s balance never faltered, and, little by little, Alex gained confidence. Angelica skated faster, and soon Alex felt like he was flying across the ice. He laughed. “Angelica,” he said, “this is… amazing.” She looked into his eyes and smiled.

“I’m glad you think so, Alex. Skating is one of my favorite pass-times. I’m glad I could share it with you.”

“I’m glad you’re letting me share it,” Alex said happily, “up until just now I had my suspicions that you still hated me.”

“I never hated you,” Angelica said, slowing down slightly as she pulled him around another struggling couple. 

“You didn’t?” Alex asked, knowing he was only adding fuel to the fire. “Then what did you think of me?” 

Despite the fact that his question had obviously caught her off guard, Angelica never faltered as she brought the two of them to a stop and let go of one of Alex’s hands so she was once again standing by his side. “While it has been fun pulling you around, I should teach you to actually skate. Can’t have you bumbling along on your own next time, now can we?”

_ Next time? _ Alex wondered, completely forgetting everything that she had said except those two words.  _ She’s assuming there will be a next time? _ For some unknown reason (probably the exercise), Alex felt heat rush to his face. “I-I’m okay with you pulling me around…” He trailed off as he realised what he was saying. “But I certainly wouldn’t mind knowing how to actually skate either.” Alex laughed awkwardly, the want for someone to knock him out with a skate so he can’t say anything else about how much he enjoyed the feeling of almost-maybe-kind-of holding Angelica’s hands filling his mind. 

The amused look had returned to Angelica’s face, and Alex could tell she was holding back laughter of her own as she began to move forward slowly, her hand never leaving his. “So this is going to be a very simplified version of how to skate, but it should help you to get going. Basically, you want to press your weight outward, exerting the pressure on the blade. Like so-” She took one small stroke with her right foot before turning back to Alex. “Now you try, just like I did.”

Alex tried to copy her movements, but his feet were clunky and he only managed to get his foot hooked around hers and trip both of them. They both lost their balance and fell onto the harsh surface of the ice. Alex somehow found himself pinned underneath Angelica. For multiple reasons, he couldn’t breathe. “Are you alright?” Angelica asked, hands frantically pulling him to where she could check for scrapes. “You didn’t land on your elbow or anything, right?” 

Alex was still too dazed to answer, more from the fact that Angelica had been sprawled over him than the fall itself. She shook his shoulder, and suddenly Alex sat up, shoving her hands away from him. “I’m fine!” he exclaimed, voice cracking slightly. “Not hurt at all.” 

“Good,” Angelica responded, pulling herself to her feet and offering him a hand. “I’d honestly be worried if you managed to hurt yourself from a fall that small, but you always find ways to surprise me.”

Only slightly insulted, Alex returned to standing shakily. “Do I  _ have _ to learn how to skate on my own? I don’t want to fall.”

“You’ll be fine,” Angelica said, twisting her fingers back with his again, “I know it’s hard the first time but you’ll get used to it quickly. And I’ll be here to help you the whole time.” She began to pull at Alex’s hand again, gently trying to get him to move forward. “And there’s only twenty minutes left anyway, you should be starting to get it when we have to leave.”

Alex groaned but tried to move his feet again anyway, pushing off of the ice in an attempt to move forward. He succeeded in moving about six inches and almost lost his balance, but Angelica removed her hand from Alex’s to set on his waist to keep him from falling, the other crossing her body to grasp his again. “Good job! Can you do that again with the other foot?” she said. Alex tried to repeat the motion, once again semi-successful. But his focus had gone completely haywire. The feeling of her hand on his waist was enough to make him fall over on solid ground, so the fact that he didn’t collapse on the spot was nothing short of a miracle. 

Despite his brain’s short-circuiting, Alex managed to continue his attempt at skating, Angelica cheering him on the whole way. He could constantly feel her hands on him, the press of her palm against his sweater oh so distracting. But he kept improving despite everything, and soon (to his dismay) he graduated to just hand-holding once again. 

“You’re doing really well!” Angelica said as they slowly made their rounds of the rink. “If I’m being honest I had my doubts that you would get this far. I’m very proud,” she said, a smug smile on her face as Alex blushed furiously.

“Thanks,” he responded quietly, trying not to let the grin of happiness he was restraining split across his face. 

Interrupting the moment, a loud horn blared through the arena, signalling the end of open skate. It seemed Angelica’s prediction was just a little too spot on, as now that Alex was a little more confident they were being forced out. Angelica sighed. “That’s the signal that our time’s up. Come on.” She turned the pair of them around, moving with all of the other skaters towards the exit. 

They made it to the lobby without incident and as Angelica unlaced her skates (and insisted on unlacing his once he realized he would get blisters trying to undo her knots), Alex dialed his brother’s number as they made their way outside.

The phone rang a few times before going to voicemail.  _ Wait a minute,  _ Alex thought,  _ that’s not right. _ James didn’t have a voicemail, at least not that Alex knew about.

“Ahoy matey, you’re probably just a telemarketer, or the CIA, so I’m just gonna say: I’m on to you. I know about the  _ birds _ .” 

The electronic beep sounded, and Alex, dumbfounded, couldn’t find the words to leave a coherent message. “You’re such a disappointment,” he whispered into the phone.

Angelica looked over to him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I thought you were calling him to let him know he needs to pick us up.”

Face completely void of emotion, Alex ended the call. “He has a voicemail….”

“So do most people, idiot.” Angelica rolled her eyes. “Give it here.” With that she grabbed the phone from his hands and tapped on James’ contact. Alex couldn’t do anything but watch anxiously as the phone rang. And rang.

“Ahoy matey,” James’ obnoxious voice began. Alex cringed in on himself as Angelica’s face morphed into confusion. “You’re probably just a telemarketer.” She shrugged. “Or,” James continued, “the CIA.” Angelica’s eyebrows raised in concern. “So I’m just gonna say,” it continued as Alex tried his best to dig a hole in the ground and crawl into it, “I’m on to you. I know about the  _ birds _ .” Angelica’s face, as Alex saw, peeking through his fingers, was one of pure horror but also a tad of amusement.

“The birds?” She fell silent, just as Alex had, and ended the call. 

“James is a bit of a conspiracy junkie...” Alex offered in explanation.

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” 

A silence fell between them once again. “So…” Alex said finally, “what now?”

“Pull a Peggy and blow up his phone until he answers,” Angelica suggested, completely serious.

Alex laughed. “Yeah, let’s—”

At that instant, Alex’s phone started to vibrate in Angelica’s palm. It read “James the Red Engine.” Alex snatched his phone back, not wanting to fuel the alliance between his brother and Angelica. 

“Hello?”

“Alex!” James yelled, and Alex ripped the phone away from his ear. “Hey, so remember how I said I would be able to pick you up?”

Alex sighed. “Yeah, that’s literally why I was calling you. We’re done, can you—”

“So actually I can’t come get you guys right now. Something came up.” It sounded suspiciously like “something” was a wild house party, but Alex couldn’t quite tell. There was a lot of background noise, and some yelling in what sounded like French. 

“What the heck?” Alex replied. “You have no friends,” at this Angelica mouthed “harsh, much?” but Alex ignored her, “you barely have a job, what could possibly have ‘come up’?”

“You know, a thing. There’s this cool little cafe about a block away from the rink, why don’t you guys go hang out there for a little while?”

“James, you know I don’t trust your restaurant recommendations after that one time last year...”

“Great! I’ll come get you in about an hour.” And with that, he hung up.

Alex and Angelica turned to look at each other in shock. She had heard the whole conversation, James was yelling loud enough for anyone in the general vicinity to have heard.

“How far is it to walk home?” Alex asked slowly.

“A few miles. Too much for this kind of weather, especially with that useless little jacket that you’re wearing.”

Alex sighed, defeated. “So what do you suggest?”

“I think I know what cafe your brother’s talking about. I don’t think it’s… really your type of place, though.”

“Do we have any other options?” Alex asked hopefully.

She stared at him unblinkingly. “It’s Sunday at three o’clock. Where else do you think is open?”

Alex sighed. “I mean like… can’t we just… stay here and watch whatever’s happening in the ice rink next?”

“Nope,” Angelica countered, “They have little kids’ hockey games on Sundays so unless you want to pay way too much to watch a bunch of five-year-olds stumble over the ice and hit each other with hockey sticks then we should head out. They don’t like loiterers.”

Alex sighed yet again. “Great, my brother’s forced us into going to the cafe? Why didn’t I see this coming?”

“I truly don’t know. Come on, open your mind, expand your horizons. Let’s try something new, it’s not  _ that  _ bad. I promise.”

For some reason Alex decided he trusted her on this one, and he followed as she shoved open the doors to the clear and blinding winter sun.


	11. Alex vs. the Proper Way to Drink Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Angelica find themselves in a pastel cafe debating the specifics of existentialism (or, more specifically, absurdism). Unfortunately, Peggy and John are nosy and will likely topple Angelica's dream of becoming Prime Minister of the UK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when two vaguely existentialist nerds (your charming authors here) start writing fanfiction about two equally existentialist characters.

As it turned out, Angelica was right: this was not his type of place, and Alex was wrong: he really shouldn’t have trusted her judgement in saying “It’s not  _ that  _ bad.” It  _ was  _ that bad. 

The cafe that James had suggested was your usual lovers’ nook type of place: pastel blue curtains pulled over quaint windows, tables covered in lace cloth, and a glass counter containing a wide selection of sweet treats. The scent of sugar and romance hung in the air. 

Definitely  _ not _ Alex’s cup of tea. Especially because they also served tea. He was a coffee type of guy, considering he never slept, and he quite liked the bitter taste, much to Angelica’s chagrin.

Without hesitation, Angelica stepped up to the counter, pulling a complaining Alex along with her. “What are you thinking of getting, Alex?”

Alex groaned. “I’m thinking of going home, that’s what I want.” 

“How can I help you today?” the overly-cheerful employee chirped, a slightly concerned expression on her face after what she’d just heard. 

Angelica grinned at the employee. “I’d like the chocolate brownie with a cup of lemon-ginger tea, please.”

“Brownies and tea are actually our couple’s special today, meaning you’ll get a second order of the same free if you order together.”

Alex was stunned. He turned to Angelica and whispered, “Wait—we’re not—what do you mean ‘couple’s special’? There’s no  _ way _ I’m getting that thing!”

Angelica just smiled at him in a way that to onlookers would be endearing but seemed to him malicious. She turned back to the employee. “We’ll take that!” Alex was pretty sure his eyes bulged out of his head.  _ She _ was the one who had said that wasn’t a date—why did he betray her now? “He’ll have the mint tea, please.” 

The girl grinned at them, saying, “Alright, that’ll come up to six sixty-eight. And by the way, you two make an  _ adorable  _ couple.” 

Angelica smirked and pulled out her wallet, thanking the girl as Alex fumed. “We are  _ not _ a couple! Why do you keep assuming that? This isn’t even—” 

Angelica stepped hard on his toes, effectively cutting him off. “It’s cheaper this way, you imbecile. Shut up and let me pay.” And for some reason Alex did. He silently (and angrily) let her drag him to a little table against the wall, and sat quietly until their tea and too-small brownies arrived. The waitress winked at Angelica, whispering, “It’s great when the girl’s assertive.”

Alex was infuriated, but Angelica just grinned. The girl walked away, and when Angelica’s eyes turned back to Alex, he was full-on glaring at her.

He sighed for the 17th time today and picked up the tiny fork, taking a tiny bite of his tiny brownie off the tiny china plate. It wasn’t bad. Alex liked brownies well enough, but the tea was a separate issue. He was not a tea person, and even Angelica would never be able to convince him otherwise.

Angelica not-so-subtly leaned over to look at the liquid in his untouched teacup. “You better drink that, you know,” she said, nodding to the cup.

“No. I’m not drinking the tea.”

“Oh let me guess, you’re a coffee person,” Angelica scoffed. “I will never understand you people.”

“Yes, actually,” Alex huffed.

“So, are you going to drink it?”

“What happens if I say no?” Alex replied, sinking deeper into the chair.

She grinned, again in that menacing-yet-kind-of-endearing way she did. “You see that broom in the corner, Alex?” she said, voice as soft as velvet. “I will beat you within an inch of your life.”

Alex was by this point leaned back as far as possible in his chair. He felt an electric shock go through his arm as Angelica placed her hand on his and wrapped his fingers around the teacup’s handle. “Now, contrary to popular belief,” Angelica explained, “the polite way to hold a teacup is without your pinkie held up. Because, honestly, that just looks cringy.”

Alex suddenly realized how close they were. Despite being across the table, Angelica’s hand was on his and she’d leaned close to him, her curls grazing the tablecloth as she instructed him on proper tea-drinking etiquette.

Probably noticing the confused stares by the other patrons, Angelica sunk back into her chair, although she did look slightly flustered. Not as much as Alex though. That would be hard to beat.

“How was the brownie, Alex?” Angelica asked, breaking the awkward silence. Not that she was making things any less awkward, though. Small talk was  _ not _ Alex’s strong point.

“Fine,” he mumbled, folding and unfolding his napkin from its unmoved position on the table.

“Alex, your napkin goes in your  _ lap _ , know you no manners?” Angelica’s tone was sharp, though Alex could tell she didn’t really mean it. Neither of them knew what to do in this situation.

“Know you no modern English, Angelica? For you speak as if you’re from the late 1700s.”

Angelica didn’t reply, staring out the window with a horrified expression.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

“Say hello to my sister, Alex, for I believe she plans to drink that tea.”

“What?” Alex asked.

“Oh look, there’s John too. It appears as though they plan to crash our date.”

“What?”

Angelica sighed. “Look out the window, Alex. Their tactics are not discreet in the slightest.”

“What did you just call this?” Alex asked, open-mouthed. “ _ A date _ ? What are you talking about?” His voice progressively got higher as his questions continued.

“Alex.” Angelica grabbed Alex’s face, which in another situation could have been interpreted in several different ways, and turned it so Alex was staring out the front window. Alas, there they were. Peggy and John, snickering to themselves and waving at the not-couple (wait, were they? Angelica had just said it was a date, but it was clear she wasn’t really thinking when she’d said that. Well, did that mean she was telling the truth, calling it a date? Or that she was lying? Alex had no idea. Women were confusing. Wait, scratch that,  _ people  _ were confusing. Especially when they were very attractive.) seated inside the overpriced cafe. “Peggy. And John. In front of the cafe. Waving at us.”

Finally seeming to come to his senses, Alex replied with a dull “Yep.”

Angelica, realizing that she had been holding onto Alex’s face for far too long to still be a friendly “look our mutual friends are outside about to crash our not-date” and let go, hands falling back to her lap (along with the napkin, the counterpart of which Alex still hadn’t moved.).

“What do we do?” Alex wondered aloud, still staring at John and Peggy chortling from behind the glass.

“I don't know, do I look like I have experience with this type of situation?”

“ _ Peggy _ is your sister.”

“And James is your brother!”

“Trust me,” Alex snorted, “there’s nothing we can do about James. You just have to deal with it unfortunately.” 

“So you’re suggesting we just ignore the fact that our friends are spying on us and probably filming our interactions to use for blackmail when I run for Prime Minister of the UK?”

“But you’re not British.”

Putting on a fake accent (or was it real? Alex couldn’t tell) Angelica said, “I haven’t the faintest idea where you got  _ that _ impression.” Alex may or may not have found her even more intimidating and hot in that moment. She really did just keep outdoing herself. 

“You’re missing the point, Alex! What are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Angelica groaned. “You’re useless.” 

“We could make a run for it?” Alex suggested.

“No. No, we can’t do that. We’ll just pretend they aren’t there. Go on about our lives. Just...act normal please.” 

“I hope you realize that  _ nothing _ about this situation is normal. What even do you mean ‘act normal’?”

“I don’t know, say something cynical and snarky? That’s normal for you.”

“Alright, you do something threatening but hot.”

“What?” she stared at him, dumbfounded, and Alex panicked, backtracking. 

“I said, do something terrifying, miss Queen of England.”

“Prime Minister, thank you very much. The Queen has about as much authority as Charlie the crybaby.”

“But she is immortal.”

“Alex, please pull your head out of the sand and get off the internet every once in a while. It’s amazing your brain hasn’t turned to mush yet.”

_ It’s not the internet that makes my brain turn to mush, _ Alex thought.  _ It’s what’s right in front of me _ . “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Alex says. “That’s normal.”

“Okay, well I haven’t heard a cynical remark from you yet?”

“Okay uhh, follow nihilism?” Alex squeaked out. He really hated being put on the spot. 

Angelica facepalmed. “Absurdism is the better branch of existentialism,” she countered. “Not only is it more fun, but it allows for complete anarchy in the governance of our own minds.”

“Nihilism never had anything against anarchy.”

“I didn’t say—you know what, never mind.”

“No, I want to hear what you were going to say.” Angelica blinked and Alex continued, “If nothing matters anyway, I’d love to hear your philosophy on this absurd universe of ours.”

Angelica took a moment to respond, slowly picking up her fork and taking off a slice of her brownie. “Well, it’s all pretty strange, isn’t it?” Angelica set down her fork and began to twist her fingers together. “The universe is so complex, and everyone sees it in different ways. While absurdism means that there is no logic in the universe and so logic shouldn’t be used to try and solve its problems, I personally believe that there is no logic in general. The universe is confusing, and truly, when have we ever made a decision with anything other than our hearts? Even bad decisions, the ones that hurt others, come from the heart. Selfishness comes from a place of love for the self, not hate of others, though perhaps a fear of them. And hate of others comes from a fear of the self. And maybe a fear of loving others. So every choice, every decision is made in the absence of logic, and without logic what do we have left but emotion to guide us?” 

Angelica jumped when the bell above the cafe door tinkled merrily, and suddenly the voices of Peggy and John intruded on their moment. “Crap,” Angelica whispered.

“Why hello dearest sister,” Peggy sang in her horrid opera voice, prancing towards their table with a giggling John in tow.

“Hello, Margarita. Alex and I were just chatting about our unsavory relatives,” Angelica replied coolly, sending a chill of fear down Alex’s spine, despite knowing that the insult wasn’t directed at him.

Peggy made a face. “Well, John and I were just dropping in for some tea and muffins. Care if we join you?”

“Yes actually, quite a bit. Frankly, your eating habits are disgusting, despite everything father’s tried to teach you.” 

“Perfect!” Peggy exclaimed, “we’ll be back in a moment once we get our food.” 

Alex heard a growl coming from Angelica’s side of the table. “Remember when you said we could make a run for it?” she whispered.

“You’re not seriously—”

“Yes,” Angelica said grimly, “yes I am.”

They met eyes across the table, and with a final mourning glance at Angelica’s unfinished brownie, Alex and Angelica stood up. It seemed they were too late, however, as there were Peggy and John, approaching the little table with plates and steaming mugs of their own.

“Hey guys,” Peggy said, setting her dishes down at the table. “John and I will pull up another table; then we can all”—She glanced conspiratorially at John—“talk.”

“What about?” Angelica replied tersely, pursing her lips at her younger sister.

“Why, about your budding relationship, of course!” Peggy grinned.

Alex and Angelica stared at each other across the table, emitting matching aggravated sighs.

Well, this should be fun.


	12. Alex vs. a Microwave Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James finally picks up Angelica and Alex from their date, although John and Peggy get a ride as well. A bad Bohemian Rhapsody sing along occurs, and John and Alex decide that James food probably will kill them. James learns that throwing flour on a fire is a terrible idea and comes up with a sleeping arrangement from your nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter discusses flaming microwaves and what not to do when you encounter one. This is a weird fanfic, don't do anything the characters do. For your own sake. However the fire extinguisher scene was taken straight from an actual fire extinguisher so that bit is accurate. Don't put forks in microwaves.

When James finally arrived to pick them up (a whole 37 minutes late, Alex counted), the conversation between the not-couple and their invasive friends had turned….well, let’s just say Peggy attempted to conduct an interrogation which did not go well and ended up with the waitress threatening to call the police over threatened violence. The four had been awkwardly sitting in silence since then. Well, silence apart from Peggy’s munching. Angelica was right, she really did have horrible eating habits.

Once James pulled up outside in his battered old car, Peggy called “Shotgun!” loud enough to temporarily deafen the cafe’s patrons, meaning Alex had to be squished into the backseat with Angelica, the hot girl he’d just been on a not-date-though-she-once-called-it-a-date with, and John.

“So,” James grinned back at Alex as he crawled into the center seat of James little car, “How did your  _ date _ go?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Alex sighed, at this point too exhausted by Peggy’s interrogation to even blush. “It got interrupted. You didn’t happen to have anything to do with that, did you?”

James laughed uncomfortably. “Me? Telling your friends where I sent you on a date? And then encouraging them to follow you?  _ I would never _ .”

Alex raised his eyebrows, and James, without even looking in the rearview mirror, smirked. “I wasn’t born yesterday, James,” Alex groaned, yanking the seatbelt from its stuck position above his head.

James smirked again. “Wait, I got you that birthday present yesterday for  _ nothing _ ?”

Alex facepalmed, while out of the corner of his eye he saw Angelica covering a grin. Peggy laughed obnoxiously, but what could you expect, it’s Peggy.

“You’re saying that old sock with seven holes in it was a ‘birthday present’?”

“Alex, you’re smart, I shouldn’t have to explain my jokes to you.”

“I was….that was….a joke.” Alex facepalmed for the nth time today.

“That you’re smart? Sounds legit,” James replied without missing a beat. Peggy cackled, and Alex was pretty sure that Angelica had snickered a little bit too.

“You’re such a disappointment,” Alex muttered.

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

“James, please, shut up.”

“Okay, okay. Anyone up for some tunes?” James didn’t wait for an answer before sliding a CD into the slot and pressing “play.”

“Bohemian Rhapsody” began to play, and unfortunately it was James’ absolute favorite song. Despite it being about six minutes long, James sang along to every bit of it, and Peggy joined him. They were truly a sight to behold, voices cracking awfully as they tried to hit the high and low Galileo's and failed miserably. Alex’s ears hurt, though he was used to this. Angelica and John, however, seemed to find the situation hilarious and sang along with the two in the front when they weren’t doubled over laughing. John even brought out his phone and started recording the whole thing. Alex at this point was hugging his knees and hoping for the ground (or seats covered in suspicious crumbs, I suppose) to swallow him whole.

As they pulled up in front of the Schuylers’ house after what seemed like an eternity, James turned down the music a little. “Well, goodbye girls, it was a great day! I really enjoy your company, especially you Peggy. You’re much more fun than my party-pooper brother.”

“Thank you!” Peggy replied brightly.

“I’m not so sure that’s a compliment, Peggy,” Angelica said. Then, to James: “But thank you for the ride and allowing me the company of your brother. You two are both… unique individuals.”

“Thanks,” Alex muttered, “sounds like you had a  _ great _ time.”

“Well, actually I did. Apart from the whole cafe fiasco. I hope we can do it again sometime.” And with that she shut the car door, leaving a pleasantly surprised but shocked Alex behind.

John cleared his throat beside him. “So,” he began, “a date with a Schuyler sister?”

“Not a date,” Alex replied automatically. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, loverboy” John laughed. 

“This kid gets it!” James exclaimed from the front. “You want to stay for dinner, young man?”

Alex’s eyes widened in fear. He liked John, and he was sure his new friend’s opinion of him would sour if he tasted James’ horrendous cooking. Alex shook his head frantically at John, trying to telepathically communicate  _ No don’t do it! The risotto will kill you!  _ but alas, his warning went unheeded. 

“That would be great! I’ll text my moms and let them know.”

“John, this is kind of a bad idea,” Alex whispered, nudging his friend with his elbow. 

“It’ll be fine; I’ve moved a few times so I know what that’s like. If there are boxes everywhere I promise I won’t judge.”

“That’s not…” Alex sighed through his nose. “That’s not the issue. My brother is a  _ terrible  _ cook.”

“Come on, he can’t be  _ that _ bad,” John replied, smiling kindly in a way that made Alex’s heart warm for no reason. “You should see my mom’s lasagna.”

“Which mom?” Alex blinked, realising he was off topic. “Never mind. Just trust me, he  _ is _ that bad.”

John glanced between the two brothers, visibly unsure. He turned back to Alex. “Okay, I trust you. What do you recommend.”

Alex shakes his head solemnly, “You’re in too deep now. The best we can do—” He stared dramatically into the middle distance, “is make a run for it.”

John raised an eyebrow, barely holding back a snort. “We could also just offer to make dinner.”

“That’s… That’s true,” Alex relented, dramatic posture collapsing like a cooking spaghetti noodle (well, cooked by anyone other than James, of course). “Yeah, that’s the better option.”

“It’s settled then,” John said, louder this time so that James could easily hear them despite his eavesdropping on the whole whispered conversation beforehand anyway, “Alex and I will make dinner and you, James, will get to enjoy the fruits of our labor.”

James chuckled. “Kids these days, talking about ‘fruits of our labor.’” He laughed again. “Well, I certainly don't mind, just don’t burn the house down kids.”

“Yeah, because we don’t even have insurance,” Alex grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Also, funny you say that because you’ve been pretty close a few times yourself.”

“Hey, it was for a science experiment!” James interjected. “And I wasn’t even using the stove, that was the microwave!”

“That literally makes it so much worse!”

Alex noticed that John had scooted steadily away from him during this conversation and was now curled up against the car door, seemingly trying to squeeze himself into the drink holder.

Alex grimaced, realizing that this was exactly what he had been trying to avoid in the first place. “Look John, I understand you’re nervous about walking into a creepy dude’s home,” he looked pointedly at James, “but if it helps at all, the kitchen is the nearest room to the front door, and we have smoke alarms in every room.”

“Haha if only they worked!” James laughed.

Alex sighed. “John, I’m sorry about all this. You don’t have to stay. I totally understand if you want to leave. I’m sure you’ll get better food at home anyway—”

John set a hand on Alex’s arm. “Alex, it’s fine. I want to. And even if it’s not up to the health code, as you said, at least we have a quick escape. And anyway, you’ve survived this long!”

“No thanks to him,” Alex muttered.

“Plus, I’m a rebellious teenager. It’s in my nature to do dangerous things without considering the consequences. But in this instance, I’ve considered the consequences. And I’ve decided that I’ll help you cook dinner. Okay?”

Alex just blinked. “Well,” he started, “if you’re sure…”

“I am.”

“Then okay. Just, tie your hair back so it doesn’t get lit on fire.”

John smiled. “No problem.”

James cleared his throat, startling them both. “Well, this is adorable, but we’ve been sitting in my driveway for three minutes already please make a decision of where you’re going to spend the rest of the day.”

Alex and John shared an eye roll as they opened the car door and entered the kitchen, thereby starting their cooking adventure.

~~

Fifteen minutes into their lasagna attempt, things were on fire. More specifically, the bowl of cheese that Alex had stuck in the microwave and accidentally left a fork in. Chaos reigned, John was screaming, and James was supposed to be finding the fire extinguisher that he may or may not have stolen from the apartment they had lived in three years ago. Alex, knowing that it most likely wouldn’t be found until tomorrow when they start unpacking again, was wracking his brain for ways to put a fire out.

“Throw water on it!” John yelled.

“I can’t! It’s in the microwave! It’ll just conduct or whatever!”

“Salt? Baking soda? Close the door?”

“I don’t know!” 

“Throw baking soda on it!” John yelled, voice much calmer than Alex felt, though still exhibiting a large amount of shock.

“Where’s the baking soda?!” 

“Dude you're the one who lives here!” 

“No I got it!” James said, barrelling into the room with a handful of white powder that kind of looked like cocaine. 

Alex had no time to ask what it was before James threw the powder onto the fire, slamming the door shut in time for it to fly open again with a  _ boom _ as what turned out to be flour exploded in the microwave.

“What the heck just happened?” Alex screamed, somehow finding himself cowering under the kitchen table. John’s shrieks filled the kitchen, although he seemed unharmed.

“Why the heck would you put  _ flour _ on a fire?” John screamed, finally coherent. “It’s a carbohydrate, thus it’s extremely flammable! Plus the fact that it’s a powder makes it very easy for air and oxygen to feed the flame!”

“It’s still burning, John!” Alex screamed.

“Wait I think I found the fire extinguisher!” James said from where he’d rolled under the cabinetry in the other room.

“So hurry up goshdarnit!” Alex shouted.

James ran in ghostbuster-style (if that was even a thing), pulled the pin from the extinguisher, aimed the nozzle at the base of the fire from six feet away as instructed by the extinguisher’s label, and squeezed the lever, sweeping the beam of sodium bicarbonate (that’s what the label said, John explained later that this was just a fancy name for baking soda) from side to side over the flames.

The three of them took a breath of relief as they felt the intense heat recede and the flames die down until the wall was not a fire dispenser but a blackened charcoal mess of wall, but once again a wall.

After a long silence, James spoke up in his usual annoying way, seemingly unaffected by their near-death experience, “Well, it seems you’re even worse cooks than me.”

“Pizza?” Alex suggested.

“Looks like it, seeing as we don’t have a  _ kitchen _ ,” James agreed.

“We have a kitchen, it’s just filled with smoke that smells vaguely like cheese.”

James sniffed the air questioningly. “It does, doesn't it. Well, anyway, I’ll go get dinner.” And with that, he left John and Alex alone in the somewhat charred kitchen.

James returned fifteen minutes later with a Little Ceasar’s cheese pizza, which they ate on the front lawn on a picnic blanket, as John reasoned that smoke inhalation would be detrimental to their lung function. It was probably a good idea, as they were now watching the leftover smoke waft out the opened window. Because of course the windows don’t have screens. It should really be expected at this point that Alex would never live anywhere that had decent amenities.

Conversation hit an all-time low, all three of them, even James, still working through their shock. 

“So,” James said at last, “we probably shouldn’t sleep in the house tonight. I’ll take the tarp out of the back of the car and set up between those two trees out back, and there’s a folding chair that doesn’t have arms which I can put between two others and sleep on that. Alex, what about you?” 

A look of horror was exchanged between Alex and John, and although Alex truly wished he could say that it was just the shock of almost burning the house down that would make him suggest such a thing, he knew that unfortunately James was just like that. 

“You know, you can just sleep over at my place….” John suggested. 

“That sounds great,” Alex agreed in relief, still horrified by his brother’s sleeping arrangement for the night.

“You’re welcome too,” John said, nodding at James.

“No, I wouldn’t dream about ruining such a special moment between two soon-to-be-lovers.”

“Dude, who do you even ship me with? I just went on a date with Angelica!”

James laughed in a way that made Alex uncomfortable. “I don’t even know anymore, you are just too shippable little bro.”

Alex made a face of disgust. “Please never let that word leave your mouth again. Just because I’m bi doesn’t mean you should ship me with  _ every single person I meet _ .”

“Oh, I would ship you with every single person you meet even if you  _ weren’t _ bi.”

“Okay that’s terrifying. I’m actually glad you’re sleeping on a broken folding chair tonight. John, I think it’s time to go.” 

“Agreed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day?? Amazing. The two of us are out of school now, and considering we have nothing else to and live pretty close, hopefully we'll be publishing more! Im sorry about the chaos. It's getting out of hand but we don't know how to (or particularly want to) stop it. - Not Adri (still dont have a name, we'll get there)


	13. Alex vs. John's bad German Accent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a night of questionable kitchen activity John and Alex make their way to the Laurens residence, where another (better) lasagna is eaten, an interrogation is had, and John confuses the heck out of Alex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that false alarm on the last chapter, we though we hadn't posted it yet. It's been a while since we wrote anything together, because what happens when we say we're going to do something? We inevitably don't. Anyway, enjoy this piece of chaos. - Not Adri

Crossing the street, John stepped up to his door and knocked twice. A minute later, one of his mothers showed up at the door. “John?” she asked. “What are you doing here Alex? I thought you boys were going to eat at Alex’s house?”

“We had a minor house fire,” Alex deadpanned.

The look of confusion on Ana’s face was absolutely priceless. “Well, come in I suppose.” She opened the door wider and stepped to the side so the two boys could traipse in. “I assume your dinner burned too? And did you call the fire department? I didn’t hear any sirens and you’re only right across the street, I would have been able to hear them.”

“We just used the fire extinguisher. It works pretty well, and the fire wasn’t  _ all _ that big,” John replied.

“And I must say, I was impressed with your son’s knowledge of fire extinguishing,” Alexa added.

Ana smiled, although she still looked more than a bit concerned. “This is what happens when you host a party for the neighborhood friend group in which the purpose is burning things and learning about fire.”

Sarah, hearing the conversation, came down the stairs to join them. “Oh, yes, that was quite the party. Remember how excited Peggy was to burn the Boron? It has quite a beautiful green flame. Good times, although I will never do that again.” Both moms laughed.

“Yeah, no. Lafayette and fire are not a good combination,” Ana added.

“Well, anyway, if what I overheard about this fire is true, would you two like dinner? There’s some leftover lasagna I can heat up,” Sarah offered.

John and Alex shared a look before bursting into laughter. “That would be great, just don’t put metal in the microwave.”

~~

Alex, unassuming, entered John’s bedroom to find his friend sitting in the office chair turned away from him.

“John, that lasagna was the best I’ve ever had. It’s entirely possible that it’s just because I’ve been surviving off of James’ cooking for years now but man, that was the best meal I’ve had in—”

“So,” John spun the chair around, eyes glinting in the light of the overhead lamp. He had a horrible smirk plastered across his face, one that told Alex he should probably start running if he didn’t want to divulge any dark secrets tonight. “Tell me about—” John pauses, probably just for dramatic effect but Alex started sweating nervously. Had he made friends with a serial killer?— “Your date.”

At those words, John crossed his legs and touched his fingertips together in steeple pose, looking every bit the evil dictator from some bad sci fi movie.

“Um… it wasn’t a date?”

“Oh my dear Alex, I can see into your soul. Don’t try to lie to me. That was most definitely a date. She just has weird issues. Also that independent woman instinct of Angelic’s a that pushes everyone away from her. That was a date. A badly covered up date. Just like the existence of Area 51.”

Alex blinked. “Okay, fine, it could have been a date, but it’s not like anything happened—”

John sighed, adjusting his tacky sunglasses and sighing a breath out of his nose. “You mean to tell me that going to a cheesy pastel café and eating tiny overpriced brownies was nothing?”

“We just debated the better branches of existentialism. Nothing unusual…”

John spun his chair back around, grabbing a conveniently placed notebook off his dresser. “Ah, yes, the classic first-date philosophical discussion. Go on.”

“Wow, John, you’re going all-out with this, aren’t you?”

“No stalling! This is an interrogation!” John almost yelled, now taking on a horrible imitation of what Alex thought to be a German accent.

“Uh, I mean we skated for a while? And Angelica tied my skates? What do you want to know?”

John smiled. “ _ Everything _ . But first, I would like a slow-mo of this skate-tying incident, since it seems prominent in your memories.”

“I don’t know, man! She tied my skates because I am a fool who has never skated and forgot to check if she had. They were so tight my little toe went numb!”

John cackled, his fake accent melting away. “Straight!”

“What?” Alex asked, completely bewildered.

“It’s like yelling ‘gay’ but it’s not.” 

“Okay…”

“And for the record, if you were that stupid and she still decided to spend an hour skating with you, she definetly likes you. Like,  _ like _ likes you.”

“Is that a compliment or…”

“I mean, it’s not a  _ compliment  _ necessarily but it’s not really an insult either. You are somewhat stupid but aparently to Angelica it’s endearing.”

“Okay that was definitely an insult.”

“Yeah, it was kind of an insult, but the point is—” John returned to his dreadful German accent— “We have a plan now. We have a line of attack. And we  _ will _ defeat the enemy.”

“What’s the enemy?”

“Yours and Angelica’s refusal to admit that you’re in love!”

“Wait wait wait—who said anything about love? What’s going on? Did James set you up to this?”

“You don’t see it, do you? Ignorant mortal. You must trust me. I will help you woo her until the stars align in your favor.”

“John, did you drink a ton of coffee today? You sound like a side character from Lord of the Rings.”

“I know about only one ring: your engagement ring.”

Alex, completely fed up with whatever this act was and still completely confused, stood up very suddenly and ripped the sunglasses off John’s face. “Can you just shut up? Lose the weird accent and please come back to reality. Let’s talk about something else.”

Without missing a beat, John looked straight into Alex’s eyes and said, unblinking, “The Earth is flat, Alex. Did you ever consider that? Think how you’ve been lied to all your life.”

Alex grabbed John’s face between his palms and fought the urge to scream. “What the heck are you talking about? Do we need to get you drug tested? Did the smoke poison your brain?”

“Our brains are all poisoned. By the government! It feeds on information we take unquestioningly as fact until that one website on the internet that has fabulous merch and tells us the truth about the birds. They work for the bourgeoisie, Alex. They work for the bourgeoisie! ”

“Yes, eat the rich, but like can you please chill? You’re actually worrying me here!”

John blinked and all semblance of a conspiracy theorist disappeared just as fast as it had appeared. “No, I’m good, just wanted you to know how stupid  _ you  _ sound.”

“...So you do that by turning into an absolute nutcase for five minutes.”

“Yep!”

“Good to know.”

An odd silence fell between them, each looking at the other. Alex realized suddenly that his hands were still on John’s face, and he pulled them away hastily, his face feeling hot all of a sudden. 

Two raps on the door startled them out of their moment, and Ana poked her head in a moment later. “It’s getting late; you two should be heading to bed soon.”

_ How can I possibly sleep after witnessing that? _ Alex thought, but nodded. “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I’m right,” she laughed, “You have school in the morning, and Alex’ll have to run home tomorrow to get his backpack.”

“Right,” Alex mused, “I forgot about that.”

“Well anyway, get your pajamas on soon, brush your teeth, and go to sleep. Night boys!” Pulling her head back out, Ana shut the door behind herself. 

“Did you bring anything with you?” John asked.

Facepalming, Alex mumbled, “No.”

“You might want to go back and get a toothbrush or something at least…”

Alex cringed. “I’m not in the mood to see James attempting to make a shelter out of a tarp and old folding chair tonight, and he’s definitely still at it if I know James.”

“Well, you can just borrow some of mine then!” John offered.

~~

Alex rolled over on the air mattress they’d set up on the floor. “So, are you a conspiracy theorist or like… I really need some closure or else I will not be able to sleep at all.”

John hummed. “Well, I entertain a lot of them. I would label myself as a skeptic. They’re cool to learn about, and honestly I believe in aliens. Mathematically speaking, there’s a better chance for them to exist than not. I just don’t think  _ all  _ the crazy crap people make up is true. It is, however, quite a good time to make fun of them.”

“What you did, I wouldn’t call that ‘making fun of conspiracy theories.’ I’d call that aggressively messing with your friend and making him believe you’re on a drug high.”

“I mean, that’s what many a conspiracy theorist is on, usually. Except did you know that the universe might actually be a donut?”

“Please just shut up.”

“No, that one might actually be true. Mathematicians and astronomers alike agree that it’s very possible.”

“Nonetheless, shut up.”

“Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for a moment before John added, “You know there are some shapes that are definitely real but don’t exist in this dimension?”

“How do you expect me to sleep, John?”

“I don’t. Did you know that a coffee cup and a donut are basically the same thing?”

“Oh my god  _ why _ ?”

“Topology.”

“No, I meant ‘why’ as in ‘why won’t you let me sleep?’”

“Okay, fine.”

Five minutes later, Alex asked, “Hey John?”

“Yeah?”

“...Nevermind.”

“And you say I’m the evil one.”

“Eh, I guess this night will just end on a cliffhanger.”

“I suppose so.”

“Goodnight, John.”

“‘Night, Alex.”


	14. Alex vs. the Scientific Method

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please welcome Thomas Jefferson to the stage. Slanderous, witty, and Alex's new worst enemy.  
> In which birthmarks have interesting positions, Alex uses the scientific method, John uses his vocal chords to audibly keysmash, and Mrs. K makes everyone's lives harder.

Alex was awoken by John’s terrifying alarm. It was the “percussion” alarm noise on his phone, which Alex had associated with his past schools, as he had set his own phone to this tone when he had to leave halfway through breakfast to catch the bus full of annoying jerks.

John shot up beside him on the bed, groaning as he slapped ineffectively at his phone.

“Good morning, John!” Alex said in an attempt to be cheerful but failing miserably, so in effect his tone was that of a grimace vocalized.

John let out a keysmash audioized.

“Time for school,” Alex said in the same awful German accent as John had used the night before.

John cracked his eyes open enough to say, “Why did you steal my divine accent, mortal?”

“Great, you’re up.”

“And you’re Asia, good morning Alex.”

The two began to slowly gather their wits and get out of bed, John traipsing off to the bathroom looking half dead, and Alex scrounged around to find yesterday’s clothes. He would have to return home to get something clean, but it would be better not to keep John’s pajamas.

Alex stepped over to the curtains and pulled them open to reveal a snow-covered landscape, the smooth surface untouched in pristine natural beauty. Well, except for that spot where he saw deer pee. But otherwise, a beautiful morning. Although quite cold, he would soon come to find out.

He also came to find out, upon returning to his house, that his brother had slept the whole weather ordeal. James, who was a notoriously deep sleeper, had in fact put together a little set up with a tarp and a few chairs. It seemed, however, that he hadn’t rigged the tarp tight enough, as it was now covering his sleeping figure with a good six inches of snow layered on top.

Alex approached slowly, afraid to find the suffocated corpse of his brother. Instead, upon lifting the blue tarp, he found a surprisingly peacefully sleeping James. “¡Buenos días, mi hermano!” Without a second’s hesitation, Alex threw off the tarp and began to lightly slap James around the face. “Wake up, idiot!” No matter how hard he tried (which wasn’t particularly hard) James couldn’t be roused, and so Alex gave up. He had things to do today, and really it was probably better that James wouldn’t be the one making his cereal today (he’d already eaten at the Laurens’ house anyway).

Leaving James to fend for himself against hypothermia, Alex entered the house, which was just as cold as outside, as they’d left several windows open to allow the house to air out overnight. Climbing the stairs to his bedroom, he grabbed some clothes and layered several sweaters and jackets on top (at the moment he was wearing John’s winter coat). Slinging his binder over his shoulder, Alex swept all of the papers strewn across his desk into a neatish pile and shoved them inside. He could deal with organizing them in some useless class, but there was no time now.

He returned to John’s house with his supplies, checking to see that James was actually still sleeping (spoiler alert: he was, somehow). John met him at the sidewalk, and they headed off in the direction of the dreaded middle school.

They met up with more members of the study group as they passed the Schuyler house, watching as Lafayette downed an entire baguette on the way to school, leaving crumbs along the way “for the birds.” John was quick to correct him to “for the surveillance drones.” It seemed like a normal day. Peggy brought out a wheel of camembert from her pocket (it wasn’t wrapped and Alex had many questions, but not any he particularly wanted an answer to) and decided to share it with Lafayette to go with the baguette. Again, pretty normal. Perhaps life had calmed down a bit after yesterday’s disaster after disaster.

Alex’s day started with Science, which was fine but for Mrs. K’s vulture-like stare that rested on him. Sure, he hadn’t brushed his hair this morning, but it was 8:03 a.m. Who had? Who was even awake at that hour? Apparently, Mrs. K was, having downed what seemed like eight cups of coffee.

“Alexander Hamilton! Pay attention!” she snarled, banging a ruler on his table. From the looks of the ruler, this was not the first time this had happened.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

However, it was kind of difficult to pay attention when nothing you could do would give you the answers to the worksheet. Not even, as Aaron had suggested on Alex’s first day, Google. Mrs. K had assigned them another of her infamous video worksheets, for which she would play a video (probably illegally, as the quality was always absolutely horrific), and the class would fill in the blanks of the sheet according to the information presented in the video. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Mrs. K herself had made these printouts, as they always had numerous inappropriate typos and the questions were often glossed over in the video, or not mentioned at all. It made for a lot of bad grades, as well as several badly-drawn bingo cards on the back of someone’s homework from last week keeping track of what curse words she had managed to accidentally work into her assignment.

Today’s video was a “Bill Nye the Russian Spy” (as that was the chant circulating the classroom today when Mrs. K’s back was turned) episode. It was on genetics, which was thankfully a respite from Bikini Bottom Genetics worksheets, but no more worthy of Alex’s time. He did his best to pay attention to the video and the non existent answers hidden therein, but instead his mind kept drifting to Angelica. What were her motives? Is she the kind of person to actually have solid motives at all? Or was she just stringing him along for her own enjoyment? She seemed to have a good time (which made his cheeks flush very much against his will), but Angelica had proven herself to be a good actor in the past….perhaps it was just a game to her. But the better question was: did he even care at this point? Yeah, she was attractive and cool and had a wonderful personality when you could get past the broom swinging, and she had depths of emotion that Alex could only begin to guess at, but was she really for him?

“Alexander! Now I don’t know your sexual orientation, man, but you’re for sure not blushing about Bill Nye. Unless you’re into lab coats.” Alex turned around to see one of the other boys from the lunch table tipping back in his chair. 

“You should probably stop that before Mrs. K performs a lobotomy with her ruler,” Alex advised, gesturing to the two chair legs hovering above the floor.

“Yeah, but if she were dissecting my brain she might spill some stuff about you and lab coats.”

“And you could prove what, exactly? By comparison I can easily prove you’re sitting incorrectly in your chair, and Mrs. K is sure to have a fit about it.”

“ _ Proof _ ? You think your classmates need proof of your attraction to lab coats to believe what I say? They don’t care one shilling about how I sit in my chair. Society doesn’t follow that color-coded scientific method poster on the wall.” He gestures towards the hideous and obviously hand drawn by a kindergartener (probably Mrs. K’s young child or something) poster.

“Okay fine, you’re right, no one cares about that poster. It’s stupid, I agree. But you could get in legal trouble if that’s a threat you’re spouting.”

“Threat? What threat? I’m simply improving the public knowledge.”

“Well maybe I should tell everyone that you have a birthmark on your buttcheek.”

Thomas gasped, looking like a frightened overly-floofy dog with its tail between its legs. “How did you know?”

Alex shrugged. “I followed the  _ scientific method _ .”

“Thomas! Alexander! What are you discussing during  _ instruction time _ ?” The lights, having previously been off during the “Bill Nye is Really High” episode, suddenly flicked on, blinding the students. 

“The scientific method, ma’am,” they said in unison.

Mrs. K glared at them, and Alex glanced at Thomas to see the mask of calmness (and something that Alex guessed was probably a Thomas’ impression of a scientist’s startled face) wavering, the guilt and terror underneath threatening to break through. She waved her ruler menacingly, and switched the lights back off. The whole class let out an audible sigh of relief. The dark was safer in a classroom such as this. It was also a lot easier to sleep in class.

Alex and Thomas locked eyes, and Alex could feel the contempt boiling up in Thomas. Great, he had made an enemy already.

The front legs of Thomas’ chair slammed onto the carpet of the classroom floor, (unfortunately lacking the dramatic effect of a loud noise, as the dingy and slightly stinky carpets worked wonders for absorbing noise) but Thomas didn’t break eye contact.  _ This isn’t over _ , he mouthed. Alex simply stuck his tongue out in response. Then he turned his head and continued to watch “Bill Nye Just Killed that Guy” as if nothing had happened. But it was obvious that something big had only just begun.


	15. Alex vs. Angelica's Not so Secret Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex learns of another vying for Angelica's attention as well as the upcoming dance. He experiences yet another instance of bad communication skills with Angelica, and then learns nothing at a practice room meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! during the writing of this chapter adri and i were going back and forth between writing and attempting to do some lockpicking. its not going all that well, however we each got it open several times. we also comtemplated breaking into our old middle school for research purposes. and we discovered that alex vs middle school is just about to reach the length of a small novel! exciting news for us, since its been almost two years weve been wokring on this now! - not adri (still havent come up with a good pseudonym. Maybe ill just call mysef jedi, except looking back the jedi have never actually been alll that great)

The rest of the first half of the day crawls by, each hour holding an even more meaningless class than the one before. Alex was beginning to realize why Aaron seemed to not care about anything. Public school was a machine, meant to drain the creativity and life force of its students.

His frustration with the school system and lawyer-grade arguments against Orchard Grove’s education practices faded as soon as he caught sight of Angelica at the communal lunch table in the noisy cafetorium. His resentment for Thomas grew when he realized that they were sitting next to each other, chatting like old friends.

Alex dodged between the other tables and narrowly missed a sandwich to the head as he made his way towards his friends. Just as he arrived at the table, the spot he was heading for on the other side of Angelica was quickly stolen by someone he hadn’t yet been introduced to. Alex huffed out a sigh and sat down next to Lafayette, who immediately offered him a Laffy Taffy. Alex waved him off, tuning into Angelica’s conversation just in time to hear the new comer speak. 

“Angelica!” he exclaimed, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Angelica wrinkled her nose and shoved the unwanted limb off. “I just came over to—”

“Still not interested,” she said, rolling her eyes and turning back to Thomas.

“Aww, but Angelica, my Angel, how could you betray me like this?” he asks, slowly snaking his arm upwards once again. “I just wanted to ask you to the dance!”

Quick and terrifying as lightning, Angelica spun and blocked his arm with her fist, making him lose his balance, falling toward the gross tile of the lunchroom floor. Luckily for him, he’d braced his foot against the table, so his skull didn’t crack open.

“I would rather die than go to the dance with you. You’re a sleazy piece of scum and I don’t want to hear from you again.” Alex was pretty sure that Angelica got exponentially more attractive every time she yelled at someone, even if it was him. And there was a tiny voice in the back of his head—well, really, it was getting louder as time went on—that said, “Well, at least you have a better chance with her than that guy.”

The dude on the floor picked himself up and gave Angelica one last glance that was somewhere between wanting to strangle her and wanting to make out with her right there and then. Alex watched as he slunk off, before turning to John and asking, “Who was that?”  
“That, my friend, is John Church, who is unfortunately in love with Angelica. Lucky for you, she hates his guts and will obliterate him just like that every time he comes over here. Apparently he can’t take a hint, however, and keeps coming back.”

“Wow,” Alex said, feeling like his face would better represent his feelings if it displayed a loading symbol. “What’s this I hear about a dance?” 

John raised an eyebrow at Alex. “You haven’t heard?” Apparently John had a whole arsenal of accents up his sleeve, as this time there was a distinct southern drawl to his voice. “There’s gonna be a little shindig on Friday, all the eighth graders are invited. You should come, wear your best spurs and fringe.”

“Yeah, you should definitely come!” Angelica interjected. “It is not, as John seems to be suggesting, cowboy themed, but we’re going to sneak Peggy in and try to forcefully take over the DJ station. It’s going to be a blast. Or, at the very least, you get to watch Peggy try to dance and Aaron make a fool of himself by over-dressing and standing in the corner looking awkward.”

Was this an invitation by Angelica herself? Was this Angelica asking him to go with her? Was he going to be her date to the dance?

“Yeah, sounds like a good time. I’ll think about it.” Alex wanted to slap himself. That was the absolute lamest answer that could have come out of his mouth. Okay, maybe he could have pulled a John and keysmashed, but other than that, this was the worst thing ever. 

Angelica gave him a look of questioning and slight disgust before turning back to Thomas, and Alex felt his whole heart deflate. He had messed up. Big time. And to make it even worse, she had gone back to talking to Thomas, Alex’s new sworn enemy, like nothing had happened between them except his own great folly.

John cleared his throat. He leaned over and set a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Meet me in practice room three later, we can talk about this in private.”

Alex summoned a forced smile. “See you in band, I guess.”

As if the bell, too, was hoping to no longer witness this incident, its pinging rang in Alex’s ears, only slightly louder than the echoing screams of a middle school lunchroom. People shoved the rest of their lunches in their mouths, shoved books and loose papers into backpacks, and quickly pocketed phones before the lunch ladies could scream and confiscate them. 

Alex stood up, not having to gather anything up as he hadn’t been there long enough to take out anything (or brought lunch) and headed for the snaking line of children along the far wall. He had started to get used to the layout of the school, and therefore made it to his next class without getting lost. 

Alex sat through social studies, not paying attention to a single thing the teacher said. It was lucky he didn’t say much at all, and Alex was able to direct what focus he did stil have left for academic purposes on the notes. He finished early (as always) and sat, stewing in his own cloud of angst, for the rest of the hour. Eventually the bell rang, and Alex dragged himself up the stairs, doing his best to tune out all of the disgusting antics happening in the stairwell, and finally arrived at the bandroom. 

Too done with everything and everyone to even bother putting his instrument together, Alex dumped his notebooks on his chair and headed back to the hallway that contained the practice rooms. 

_ “Meet me in practice room three later,”  _ echoed through his head as he approached the correct door. Originally there had been a small plastic plaque declaring which room was which, but this being Orchard Grove they had been removed or broken and replaced with a ripped piece of notebook paper taped where the original had been. 

The light was on in room three, but the window was either blurred or was so dirty it was blurred. Alex reached out to grab the handle but before he could make contact with it the door was shoved open from the inside, revealing John, standing in the way. 

“Password,” he asked in his German interrogator’s accent, a stupid grin splitting his face.

Alex sighed. “Not feeling it right now John,” he said, yanking the door open and revealing Eliza standing behind John. Alex just stared at her for a second before realising that was kind of weird. “Hi,” he said. 

“Hello,” she replied.

Alex looked at John. “You said privately.”

“Well, I had every intention of having this be a private chat however Eliza is the perfect middle person for your issues and also just a great person to talk to in general.”

Alex sighed. “I apologize, Eliza, I was just not expecting to see you.”

“It’s quite alright Alex, I was surprised to see you as well, as John gave me no insight into why we are conducting this meeting.”

She smiled, and Alex noticed how her cheeks seemed to be glowing in the bland light of the practice room. He also noticed that Eliza hadn’t been told anything about this little meeting John was holding. It was supposed to be a rant about how Angelica seemed to be just stringing him along, and wondering if her telling him about the dance was her inviting him to go with her. But now, he was wondering if perhaps John had ulterior motives.

“Alright, guys, the issue we need to address is—”

Alex bit his lip. This was his last chance, his last possibility of redemption. He could just leave and tell Eliza not to worry about any of this. And was it weird for Eliza to be matchmaking for her sister? But was that really what Alex wanted? And could he and Angelica actually work out?

He spent too long waiting, and by now John had continued. “Alex completely blew it when Angelica asked him to the dance.”

“John, did she really? I feel like that wasn’t her really asking, I feel like that was more of a platonic ‘hey why don’t you join our group at this dance’ than a ‘hey come to the dance as my date,’” Alex countered.

John shook his head. “Alex, Alex, Alex. Our dearest Angelica has never asked anything straightforwardly in her life. And you are no exception. You have to take this horse by the reins and ask her yourself, or clear things up and find out if she was truly asking you.”

“While I wouldn’t use the term ‘horse’ to describe an important person in my life, John is right in that y’all need to communicate. This is a train destined to crash unless you guys can openly discuss the train’s route.”

“Train isn’t a much better comparison,” Alex mutters. 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and continue,” Eliza said. “Alex, are you free tomorrow after school?” she asks. 

“Yes,” Alex answers cautiously. 

“Good. Meet me at the Bookmark Cafe tomorrow right after school.”

“Why…?” Alex questions, somewhat concerned.

“Just do it. I promise that something will come of it,” Eliza said cryptically, which did not make Alex feel better in the slightest. 

“Okay,” Alex sighs in defeat, “I guess I don’t have anything better to be doing than going to a cafe for a meeting of undetermined purpose.”

John, who, according to his expression didn’t know the purpose either, encouraged, “That’s the spirit, Alex!”

“Well, is there anything else you want from me?” Alex asked, and upon getting no reply said, “Good. I can hear Lee screaming and on the verge of tears already so I think it’s safe to say we can just hang out here for the rest of the hour.”

The others nodded in agreement, and they all dropped their backpacks to the floor and did their best to make themselves comfortable, whether that be in chairs or laid across the floor with a balled up sweatshirt beneath their head. Band was a useless class, and often quite stressful for anyone attending, so practice rooms were like an oasis in a desert for students who really didn’t have the patience to deal with that class. And today, that was Alex.


	16. Alex vs. an Indeterminate Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex, at Eliza's request, visits the "Bookmark Cafe," where he finds Angelica and is given a deal by Eliza: define the relationship in thirty minutes, or Eliza will act as a mediocre couples counselor. So, they do. And sometimes, feelings are messy.  
> Or: Both authors use Angelica as an emotional outlet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you think this was worth missing last week's update for - we certainly do!

As usual, school had been terrible. Each class was boring and unnecessary. To add to all of this mess, Mrs. K had made her students play a Kahoot! in which one of the questions involved watching the entire music video of the song “Happy” then inevitably getting the answer wrong. How was anyone supposed to guess the answer choice “HAPPY! :)” when all the other choices were “happy,” “HAPPY,” and “HaPpY!!”? It was a bad day. Well, to be fair, all days were bad days with Mrs. K.

Alex had asked James to pick him up from school that day, because he was “going out with a friend and needed James to take him there.” James had teased him relentlessly about the friend he was going out with, but Alex refused to disclose who it was. And, when the merciful (but ear piercing) pinging sounded through the building, Alex found himself swamped in the chaos that was the Orchard Grove parking lot.

The parking lot was possibly the most lawless part of the whole school, which was saying something. Cars everywhere, students running across the lanes and through parking spots, absolutely no regard for the rules one is supposed to follow, and that one kid’s grandma who was always yelling “Timothy! I’m over here!” with no regard for the sanity of those in hearing range. It was truly a sight to behold. And today, for the first time, Alex got to experience it first hand. 

James had promised to be on time, and unfortunately for once he had kept his promise. Alex could see his used-to-be-green little Toyota in one of the farthest parking spots from the school (which was good in the sense that parking exactly over the lines was less disruptive there), which meant that he had already gone through the lane which people used as a parking lane despite it being very obviously marked as a no parking zone. Poor Alex would have to make the trek through all of the parents’ cars and navigate the gallery of ABC gum spat on the ground, and he was decidedly not happy about it.

Of course, this was bad because it was a public space with many, many people in it, but it was also a public space, with many, many people to behold James’ car-top renditions of classics like “Bohemian Rhapsody.” While he had not started singing yet, Alex needed to get in the car soon before James made a complete fool of himself with no shame at all.

After multiple attempts at his life by irritated parents who seemed to care more about getting where they needed to be before anyone else that the possible charges of vehicular homicide they would almost definitely have committed by the end of the year, Alex finally made it across the first lane of people attempting to get their children into cars. While he didn’t blame them for trying desperately to lessen the time their kids spent at Orchard Grove, it really ticked him off because he wasn’t planning on dying today. The traffic lanes were followed by a section of parking spots, all of them filled and no one using turn signals when they backed out, and then another lane of moving traffic. Once he had made it across all of that with surprisingly little incident, there was just the small section of parking spots in which James was parked in. Alex could hear music echoing faintly from his brother's car, and upon further inspection of the sign he had parked in front of, James was actually sitting in a spot reserved for clean energy cars. Alex was pretty sure James’ car was from before clean energy cars had been invented.

“Hey little bro, let’s get you to your date. Who’s it with and should I expect you home tonight?”

“This is illegal,” Alex deadpanned. 

“What, me wanting to know the juicy deets of my brother’s dating life?”

“No, the parking spot. This car produces more carbon dioxide than the whole state of Illinois.”

“But somehow you have a dating life, eh?”

“No thanks to you.”

“Hey, just ‘cause this car doesn’t have wings doesn’t mean I can’t be my little bro’s wingman!”

“Oh, it absolutely does. When you can afford a flying car I’ll let you help me with my dates.”

“Aha!” James yelled, making Alex jump, “So you admit! It  _ is _ a date!”

Alex sighed a sigh deeper than the Marianas Trench. “Honestly? I have no idea. Eliza just said ‘Be there or else,’ and I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s  _ definitely _ a date.”

“Except you don’t know the context at all and it is in all likelihood not.”

“Also,” James smirked at Alex through the rear-view mirror (he still didn’t consider his “little bro” mature enough to sit shotgun), “Is this a new lady-friend I'm hearing about? Have I met this—” he pauses for dramatic effect—“Eliza?”

“She’s Angelica’s younger sister.”

James gasped so hard he started coughing. “The one who joined me in a showstopping rendition of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’? I vote for her.”

Alex grimaced. “Nope, that’s Peggy. She’s a self-proclaimed hazard to society.”

“But that’s your type, isn’t it?”

Alex gave James the shadiest glare he could. “What is wrong with you.”

James just grinned. “So much, and it makes me the coolest brother you could ever wish for.”

“I wish you would leave me alone sometimes.”

“And I wish I was a millionaire, tough luck.”

Alex facepalmed. “Are we actually going to go anywhere? Or are you just going to sit in the parking lot of doom and harass me?”

“Let’s get you to your date, dearest bro.”

“For the last time,  _ not  _ a date.”

~~

They pulled up to the Bookmark Cafe a little while later, where it was attached to the original bookstore. When, according to John’s account of the place when he’d explained it to Alex via text the previous night, the store next to them had gone bankrupt the little business had bought the empty store, knocked down the dividing wall, and announced the grand opening of the Bookmark Cafe. It was a wonderful little hangout for bibliophiles and exhausted college students alike, and in Alex’s mind, truly the perfect little place for a date. Much better than the overpriced frilly little cafe Angelica had chosen (or, well, that  _ James _ had chosen and Angelica hadn’t argued with).

Despite the peaceful atmosphere of the cafe, Alex was still quite nervous about this meeting. Sure, it most likely involved Eliza, but they were presumably going to talk about Alex’s relationship with Eliza’s broom-happy (like trigger-happy but with brooms) yet somehow insanely attractive older sister, which did not set him very well at ease.

“Bye James, and please don’t set the house on fire! We don't need that again,” Alex warned as he climbed out of the door. 

“Good bye, little bro. I expect a minute by minute run down of the events of your date when you get back!” James called back. 

Alex had to physically restrain himself from climbing back in the car and wringing his brother’s neck. “I can’t believe I’m related to you. I’ll text you when you need to pick me up. And this time  _ don’t _ be an hour late.” He slammed the door closed, not waiting for James’ reply, and turned towards the cafe and bookstore.

Taking a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down, Alex pulled the door open, greeted by the small tinkling of a bell above the door. He looked around the little cafe (a very welcoming and cozy environment, as expected from a book store, with fairy lights strung along the walls and the scent of hot cocoa heavy in the air) and quickly spotted Eliza, sitting at a corner table with Angelica next to her, both sipping hot chocolates and chatting quietly about something Alex couldn’t hear. 

_ Oh crap _ , Alex thought. He had not come here prepared to deal with the broom-wielder herself. When Eliza spotted him she waved enthusiastically, which of course caught Angelica’s attention, and Alex knew there was no way he could get out of this. James had actually left (Alex had been a little concerned he would stay and pull out his binoculars). Fortunately or unfortunately, his escape route and meddling brother were long gone, and he was stuck once and for all with parts one and two of the Schyler sister trio.

“Hey Alex, how are you?” Eliza began as Alex sat down at the third chair of their circular (communistic) table.

“Uh, I’m okay, how about you guys?” Of course, this was an absolute lie, because Alex was totally not ready for a heart-to-heart with Angelica in front of Eliza (or whatever else it was that he had been invited for). 

“I feel very much ready for you two to work things out, thank you for asking,” Eliza replied.

Alex gulped visibly, and Angelica took an even sip of her hot chocolate.

“What do you mean,  _ work things out _ ,” Alex asked cautiously.

“Oh, that, of course. While I’d prefer to pull up my slideshow on the projector of one of the university’s lecture halls, I figured a more personal setting would be ideal, so I’ll just have to settle for the action of simply telling you why I brought you both here today.” She paused, and Angelica and Alex shared a glance. “You guys have some feelings you need to discuss. Alex, you like Angelica, and Angelica, you like Alex. Pretty good, right?” They both gaped at Eliza, who just sat between them, completely content and not at all disturbed by the conversation she was initiating. “Now I brought you here today because unfortunately, Alex is a fool and Angelica can’t just say what she’s thinking, so in order to make a better environment and a better world for the rest of the study group who feel like they’re watching a bad reality TV show, while it is entertaining, I must say, I think it’s time you have an actual conversation with each other. Does that sound good?”

Absolute silence greeted her question, as Alex and Angelica obviously were not told this in advance and were still processing what Eliza had just revealed.

“Awesome!” Eliza said, “Let’s get started. I’m going to go wander around the bookstore section for about a half an hour and if when I come back there are still unresolved issues between you, I will be playing as a couple’s counselor for you and trust me it would be much better for all of us if that didn’t need to happen.” She smiled in a way Alex found completely disregarded the obvious atmosphere of tension.

She stood, grabbing her drink in one hand, and said, “Well, I’ll leave you to it! Remember, it won’t be fun for any of us if I have to break out the power point I put together last night.” And with that, she turned and walked away, humming slightly to herself. 

Alex, still stunned, just watched her retreat for a moment until Angelica finally came to her senses and spoke. “Well….we may as well introduce the elephant in the room.”

“Yeah—”

“His name is Jorge, by the way,” Angelica said, pointing to the elephant statue situated in the cafe’s corner.

“Ah,” Alex said, “Of course. Nice to meet you Jorge.”

“We should also mention the new information Eliza provided us. It seems we both have feelings for each other. What do you think about that?”

“Nope. Fake news. That is incorrect. The government is trying to trick you into a false sense of security, but they’re really tracking your every move.”

“Alex, I don’t think it takes a genius to realize that you have a crush on me.”

Alex laughed, his voice weirdly high, like he had inhaled a balloon of helium. “Me having a crush on you?” He sighed, giving up after noting Angelica nonplussed expression. “Yeah, it’s more likely than you’d think.”

“I see. And me having similar,” she paused, grimacing, “feelings for you might not be out of the question of life, the universe, and everything.”

Alex paused, his very much bisexual brain trying to process what he’d just heard. “Uh… yes?” he said, which was probably very much not the appropriate response, but he was experiencing a moment of bi panic to the extent he had not known possible before.

“So, where should we begin?” Angelica asked.

“Probably at the part where you like me back,” Alex deadpanned, “Where the heck did that come from?”

“You think I know? I’d rather have a crush on a purple iguana.” 

“I can be a purple iguana.”

Angelica looked at Alex, obviously concerned.

“....or not.”

She took a breath and steeled herself, reinstating her grip on her hot chocolate. “Look, Alex, I do care about you.” She paused, seemingly trying to gather her thoughts into a concise and well-put-together argument. (Was argument the right word? Alex wasn’t quite sure. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure of anything right now.) “As in, I am attracted to you and would absolutely date you given the right circumstances.” Alex wished he could say something, but if his brain was a machine, several cogs had just been shot across the room.

“I uhh, I like you too?”

“That much was pretty obvious.” At seeing Alex’s expression, Angelica quickly added, “No offense, but the art of subtlety is not your strong suit.”

“Fair enough. So, back to this you’re-willing-to-date-me thing?”

“Right.” Angelica sighed, and took a small sip of her hot cocoa. “I said I would date you under the right circumstances.”

“Which are?” Alex was aware he looked like a hopeful puppy at that moment.

“Look, Alex, with all the miscommunication we’ve been through in little more than just a few days, what do you think will happen if we get into a romantic relationship?”

“Um…” Alex realized a second later that he was exemplifying Angelica’s words.

“Exactly. You have no idea how to act around me, nor I around you. That doesn’t work out well, and honestly I don’t think we could change it even if we became much more familiar with each other. You’re too intimidated by me—”

“Hey!” Alex protested.

“It’s true, don’t deny it,” Angelica gave him a pointed look. “And to be honest I kind of enjoy intimidating you. Which isn’t super healthy. And even though you meet my standards, you’re almost too much. You’re exactly my ideal type, at least from what I see, and I honestly think that at some point in a relationship that would start failing. As you become more comfortable with a person you begin to reveal more of your soft underbelly, that’s just human nature. In showing more of who you truly are you would be moving further from who I wanted to be with, who I had assumed you were. I feel like eventually you would disappoint me and I don’t want to hurt you simply because I have unrealistic expectations and you don’t exactly match them.”

Alex could only blink. “It sounds like you’ve done quite a bit of thinking, Angelica.”

“Yeah, well I’m living off about four hours of sleep for the past three days. Thanks to you.”

“We are quite similar, aren’t we,” Alex says quietly. 

“Too similar.”

Angelica raised her cup to her mouth once again, and silence fell between them as Alex stared down at his clasped hands.

Breaking the silence, Alex began, “Are you sure we wouldn’t work? Aren’t you a bit sleep deprived to be making big decisions like this?”

Angelica waved him off. “I had a couple of shots of espresso this morning, I’m fine.” Truly, that was even more concerning but Alex let it go.

“Maybe you’re right,” Alex says slowly, mulling over the situation himself. “But don’t you think maybe we could give it a try? Go on a few dates with the understanding that this probably won’t work and just test it out?”

“I don’t think so,” Angelica said softly. “I can’t trust myself. I’ll get attached to you, I know that. As I said earlier, you’re everything that I look for. Everything that John Church isn't. You are my perfect partner….”

“You know what? What you said about very high expectations? Yeah, you were right. I’m not that. Please don’t put me on a pedestal.”

“That’s the issue, Alex! I already have!”

“Is that why you act like you hate me?”

Angelica laughed, though Alex couldn’t tell if there was any real humor behind it. “What else am I supposed to do? Give in to my hopes and dreams?”

Alex blinked. “Yeah, that’s what normal people do.”

“Well unfortunately for you I’m not normal people.”

“I can see that,” Alex said snarkily.

She glared at him. “So much is wrong in this world, I just want one thing that goes right. And I know that this—” she gestures to Alex and then back at herself—“is not that. It won’t work, and we will both be crushed. And I can’t let that happen.”

“What are you afraid of, Angelica?” She started to answer but Alex cut her off. “No, I don’t think you’re actually afraid of us both being crushed. At least, that’s not the majority of it. I think you’re afraid of feeling.”

“What do you mean?” Her expression turned guarded. She knew, she just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“I mean, why didn’t you simply act like a normal person with a crush? Why did you immediately wield a broom against me? That’s not something a sane person would do. That’s what an afraid person would do. You tried your best to hide anything you felt for me, did you not?”

“I suppose… wait, are you trying to be my therapist or a detective?”

“I don’t know, both? But I can tell this isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

Angelica huffed angrily. “What would you rather I have done? Act like you? Let my hopes build up and up and up, trying to get closer to a person who barely acknowledges you as a friend? That hurts Alex. Especially when they go and date someone else. Someone better than you. Someone they like. It hurts, when you’re barely seen by the person who you’ve dedicated emotions and feelings and time to.”

Alex, stunned into silence, could only gape like a purple iguana.

“So yeah. Sure, I’m scared. If that’s what you want to call it. Or maybe I just know how it feels and don’t ever want to do that again.”

“You’re afraid of being hurt?”  
“And of hurting someone else. But aren’t we all?”

“Well, so what if I get hurt? So what if we fall to pieces at the bottom of an abandoned gorge in Narnia? Are you really going to let that overshadow the good, worthwhile things we could be before that point? Shouldn’t we just live our lives, because bad things are going to happen whether or not we are the cause, whether or not we see them coming?”

“So I would just be waiting to, in your words, ‘fall to pieces at the bottom of an abandoned gorge in Narnia’? I don’t think that’s what a relationship should be either.”

“I was examining the worst case scenario, please realize that.”

“Narnia is the worst case scenario? What about a global pandemic that separates us for months on end without a clear end date?”

“Again, that’s a worst case scenario, and pretty unlikely. But even so, is happiness not worth the risk?”

“No! No, it’s not worth the risk! Not when the risk is so much worse than never getting the good things. Emotions are a rollercoaster, Alex, and I’m riding blindfolded. I never know how far I’m going to fall. From the highest peak a fall could break my bones, Alex. Isn’t it better to just stay near the ground to begin with?”

“Maybe in your worldview, but not mine.”

“Well, I’m glad you have a worldview, Alex. I’m glad you understand who you’re going to be when you wake up tomorrow morning. I’m glad you have a personality and please, don’t change it with the ticking of the clock.”

“What do you mean, Angelica? Are you okay?”

“I mean, no? I don’t know who I am. Have I ever? Do any of us? I can’t say. But the Angelica you know isn’t going to be the Angelica that I am. Because I don’t know her.”

“Well, I know some things about you, at least.”

“Do you?”

“I know you like your crippling boots of despair.”

Angelica’s lips twisted into a smile. “I suppose.”

“And I don’t care what your emotional state is, you’ll still be disgusted by John Church.”

“Of course. How could I not? He’s  _ John Church _ .”

They both laughed. “So, I know you have a lot on your mind right now, Angelica, but honestly? I’d be 100% willing to put whatever label between us that you’re okay with. We can stay friends—if indeed we are friends” Alex made a face, which made Angelica chuckle. “Or, whenever—if ever—you’re ready, we could be more than friends?”

Angelica smiled, her eyes trained on her hot cocoa. “I suppose that works for me.”

There was a moment of silence before Angelica noticed Alex’s (slightly more potent) blush. “What?”

Alex reached across the table and set one of his hands over Angelica’s where it was still wrapped around her coffee. She gave him a shy smile and unwrapped her hand from the cup and tangled her fingers with his, giving his hand a little squeeze. Alex thought he might just die of happiness. 

Their moment was interrupted by Eliza returning from the bookstore section, a small package wrapped in brown paper. 

“Hello,” she said, eyeing their hands at which point Angelica snatched hers back, reattaching it to her cocoa. Alex’s heart deflated just a bit, but he supposed he should get used to it. They were just friends, after all. “How’s it going?”

“Great!” Angelica replied, and Alex thought that for once the faint bit of cheerfulness in her voice wasn’t fake. But Alex wondered if she’d told her sister everything she’d told him before he ever got the chance to hear it.

“Good,” he replied.

“Awesome!” Eliza said, setting her package down and joining them at the table. “Everything’s finally worked out between you?”

Angelica looked up at her sister. “Yeah. We’re just friends.”

“Alright. Well, I'm glad you’ve managed to come to a conclusion. I was really getting tired of the way you’ve been pining after one another.” Alex and Angelica shared a look. “Well, I think we should be heading out soon. Angelica, remember Father needs us to—”

Angelica heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I remember. You’re right though, we should get going. Alex, do you need a ride home?”

Alex, who was vaguely terrified of the Schuyler sisters themselves for being as rich as they were, decided that today he would take another car ride with his brother over meeting their parents today.

“No, I’ll have James come get me. See you around, Angelica.”

“You too, Alex."


End file.
